Game of Thrones belong to G.R.R.M
Fate Stay Night belong to Type Moon
A Throne Nobody Wants
Special Thanks to Cheeser, who's back in action, and Mingyu, how have gotten over his cold!
Book 3: Chapter 1
+++ Joffrey- Blackwater Bay +++
Joffrey Baratheon, Kings of the Andals and First Men, was pretty certain that he would be the last of his name after tonight so long as his traitorous uncle breached the city gates. They'd been tricked; his dwarf of an uncle had told him that the two-pronged attack by the rebels had turned into three. Stannis' fleet was suppose to link up with Vale forces in an effort to push south from Maiden Pool. His grandfather had decided to lead the defense with his uncle Jaime and his detestable good brother in tow.
However, they had all been duped. Stannis had completely bypassed Maiden Pool, breathing down their necks before they knew it. The King's Landing patrol fleet was able to limp back into Blackwater Bay just in time to warn them of Stannis' imminent arrival.
Any plan Joffrey's uncle Tyrion had devised was thrown out of the window when his traitor uncle's fleet was spotted on the horizon the next morning. Thus began the siege of King's Landing. Ravens had been sent, but there was no way to tell if they have been intercepted or received. Now Joffrey stood on the battlement (the front lines!), at his uncle's urging, to boost the men's morale. His Uncle Stannis had been content to soften up the city by bombarding them until tonight. Tonight his uncle's War Galley spat out troops and made for the city gates.
"Your Grace," Lancel Lannister, his cousin, came running up to him out of breath. Joffrey could barely make out his face behind the shadows cast by his helmet. "The Queen has sent me to bring you back to the Red Keep."
Joffrey could feel all of the men's eyes upon him. All of these soldiers who were risking their lives to defend him and his crown. Even his uncle was looking to him with those misshapen eyes, ever judging. In truth, Joffrey's instincts told him this was the perfect excuse for him to avoid the battle. After all, he couldn't ignore his mother's summons. Perhaps it was an emergency! She was royalty after all! Or maybe his fiancée had taken ill? As her future husband, wouldn't it be natural for him to be concerned for her welfare?
"Your Grace, we need to leave." Lancel reminded Joffrey again, his eyes conveying the urgency in which they needed to depart before the battle began.
Joffrey opened his mouth to agree, only to find no sound would come out. He saw everyone, even his kingsguards, all straining to hear his reply. The pressure was immense; he had never realized that battles could be like this, nor that the war would reach his very doorstep.
"They're going to break through soon!" A guard shouted even as arrows were fired into the enemy forces from the battlements.
"Your Grace!" Lancel prompted, his eyes trying to meet Joffrey's.
"Joffrey!" Tyrion's tone held a warning. The man was already dressed in armor, as comical as he made it seem. "Would your sister run?!"
It was as if cold water had been poured over him. Joffrey's hand subconsciously moved to clutch the locket hanging under his breastplate, which held a piece of parchment from Mordred's letter.
-Though I grieve for father, I am proud of you.-
The letter had contained advice, tactics, and much more, but all that paled in comparison to those words. It was the first time in a long while Joffrey had felt that his beloved sister approved of him. He was reminded of his sister again when he placed his hand on the hilt of his longsword.
"Someone get me a shield," Joffrey ordered finally and was pleased when he saw admiration from the men around him. Even his dwarf of an uncle. Lancel looked shocked, but Joffrey stared him down. "Go tell mother, I am defending my Kingdom."
Then, practicing something Joffrey had seen Mordred do, he drew his sword and roared. It came out weaker than his sister's, or even his father's, but the men reacted to it all the same.
"You heard his Grace! Get him a shield!" Tyrion, his uncle, sounded pleased as a soldier quickly handed Joffrey a round shield emblazoned with a Lion. This wasn't the first time that his father's Stag had been replaced by the Lannister's Lion, oddly enough. If this kept up, people might begin to think the rumors regarding his parentage were true!
"Uncle," Joffrey looked down to his uncle. It had been years, but something akin to respect shone in the smaller man's eyes. "You're good at speeches and you're here fighting with me, you do the honors."
Tyrion cracked a wry smile at his nephew before he turned around and addressed the assembly. Joffrey did not pay too much attention to his uncle's speech; he was more concerned with remembering everything his sister had taught him.
'You may be shit at fighting but you sure can take a beating!'
Joffrey smiled to himself as he raised the shield and adjusted its straps. He got into a series of defensive stances that Mordred had drilled into his very bones. He drew his Pendragon longsword and made a few slashing motions with it. The roar of the men's cheers let him know that his uncle's speech was finished as he too marched down into the yard, the sound of wood splintering let him know that the gate breach was imminent.
"Now, fight for your King, for Country and most importantly, your lives!" Tyrion shouted at the exact moment the gate swung open haphazardly, revealing men wearing the colors of Stannis Baratheon.
"For the King!"
And to Joffrey's surprise, his uncle was the first one to rush toward the enemy. The other men, as if shamed, followed soon after. Joffrey himself was about to join when the Hound grabbed his shoulder and held him back.
"Patience boy, just wait here. They'll come to you soon enough!"
Sure enough, more men flooded through into the gate and the battle slowly began to spread all the way up the battlement where he was standing.
"Kingsguard Ready!" Ser Barristan, Captain of the Kingsguard, shouted as Joffrey's personal guard formed all around him.
The battle, in Joffrey's opinion, was like someone pouring oil into water. He remembered seeing the black color of the oil mixed into the water, slowly tainting it. Stannis' men were that oil and Joffrey was fast running out of water.
"Steady!" Ser Barristan shouted as the archers behind Joffrey began to fire at the gate, hoping to thin out the men. The men on the wall over the gate were already dead, their bodies filled with bolts and arrows.
Joffrey felt his stomach roll, as if he needed to vomit. His palms were sweaty; his knees felt weak, and his heart was pounding so hard he couldn't hear anything else. The feeling of dread that he had was worse than when he jousted against the Targaryen. Yet, through it all, Joffrey had one single thing that kept him standing here to face down the oncoming horde. A single, shining golden light with emerald eyes.
Moments later the first wave of enemies was upon him.
"Die, traitors!" Joffrey shouted harshly as he charged forwards with his shield. The attack caught his opponent, a man as old as his uncle Jaime from the looks of it, off guard. With movements honed from years of training, his sword snaked out and easily sank into the man's flesh as his dark-brown eyes went wide in surprise as if he could not believe Joffrey scored a hit.
With a cruel smirk, Joffrey twisted his longsword violently, and blood bubbled from the man's lips even as the life faded from his eyes. Pulling out the blade, he was pleased to see it was bloodied. He enjoyed that, the overwhelming power he had over the man's life by his own hand. A twisted smile adorned his face now.
Joffrey searched for his next opponent and saw that the enemy's surge was being blunted by his Kingsguard, led by Ser Barristan. Still, there were a lot of Stannis' men around. He moved to engage another one, a boy around his age, and an untrained boy judging by how sloppily he swung his sword. Joffrey opened his throat gleefully.
How dare they challenge him- KING Joffrey Baratheon?!
"Kill them all!" Joffrey screamed at the top of his lungs as a red haze seemed to settle over him. One after another, he killed the men that came at him or those that got through his Kingsguard. Still, his smile just got wider as the red of his enemy flowed. Was this what his father meant when he said "Ours is the Fury?"
"Die you worthless dogaaaughh!"
Joffrey cried out in pain as an arrow sprouted from his left shoulder, the arrowhead sticking out the other side.
The battle frenzy, the haze that had just consumed him, lifted. Joffrey suddenly felt very weak and realized just how mortal he was. The Kingsguard surrounded him but still, death could come from anywhere! Joffrey looked around wildly, searching for any attacker. The world was spinning, and on its final rotation he saw a screaming bearded man wielding a large axe lunging for him. The man struck him hard, but Joffrey was able to raise his shield to block. Unfortunately, the man's strength was considerable and Joffrey's shield smashed back into his head, disorienting him and causing his ears to ring with the sound of temple bells and horns.
Questions popped into Joffrey's mind, the first and foremost being the whereabouts of his Kingsguard as he staggered from the attack.
The man swung his axe down toward Joffrey's head a second time, but by sheer instinct Joffrey managed to lift his shield up to deflect the blow before the man swiped at his face with a dagger held in his other hand. This time it was Joffrey's own training that saved him. The dagger bit into his cheek deeply, but Joffrey turned his head away and backpedaled quickly. The man lunged at him again and took Joffrey off-balance.
Joffrey stabbed blindly in desperation as his opponent deflected the strikes with ease. He then physically tore Joffrey's shield off his arm before backhanding him so hard he fell to the ground. He could hear the man's laughter. Several thoughts entered his mind at the time. First, why was that damn horn still blowing when the ringing in his ears had stopped. Was he hit that hard?!
Second, but more importantly, where the fuck was his Kingsguard?!
"Nowhere to run, ya little inbred bastard!" the man sneered before he stabbed down at Joffrey, only for a blade to suddenly appear out of the front of his chest.
The blade jerked up and split the man, skull and all, in half. There was a shower of blood as he looked up at his savior. His heart immediately seized for a second before it beat ferociously, for right there and then, he wished he was dead.
Mordred Baratheon Pendragon, his sister, adorned in a blue coat of arms and silver-colored plate was standing over him. Her armor blood-splattered and hair disheveled, she had never looked more beautiful or frightening to him. Frightening because he was on his back in front of an enemy, something Mordred had taught him time and time again to never let happen. Looking beyond her, Joffrey saw the banners of Pendragon and High Garden outnumbering Stannis'.
Joffrey looked up at his sister in amazement when she extended an arm to him. Almost in disbelief, he took her arm and felt her effortlessly hoist him back to his feet. His Kingsguard had formed a protective wall behind his sister and him. Still, he was afraid to look into his sister's eyes, afraid of her judgment on his cowardice.
"Joffrey," Mordred spoke again, her voice sounded more mature than he remembered. Or maybe that's how she always was on the battlefield. Suddenly, Mordred dropped her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, despite it being covered mostly in armor. "You did well."
Joffrey's eyes snapped back to look at her again. She was disheveled, yes, and looked slightly fatigued. But the most important thing was that there was no anger in her eyes, no disappointment.
"Sister?" Joffrey asked uncertainly, of course she did not realize that her words could unmake him on the spot. "You're here..."
"So are you, imagine that," Mordred replied even as a soft smile bloomed on her face. Her eyes glittered with amusement as she looked at him.
Joffrey watched as his sister dug her hand under her armor and pulled out a small blue cloth, which she then applied gently to his cheek. He staggered a bit and felt his sister's grip tighten to support him. Yet she probably did not even realize that it was because he caught her scent from the cloth which almost sent him to his knees.
"Mother probably won't be too pleased about the scarring," Mordred continued as she held her cloth there to stop the flow of blood on his face. Joffrey nodded in agreement, their mother did put a big emphasis on beauty.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it; scars are what make men MEN after all."
If the Mountain Who Rides was still alive, Joffrey felt he would have been able to beat him with his bare fists. Blindfolded!
+++ Arthur – Leagues from Harrenhal+++
Arthur took off his helm and blocked the glaring sun with his hand. Above was a clear blue sky accompanied by a light breeze. Normally, Arthur would have considered this a nice day, but the landscape before him, littered with dead men from the Vale, made that all but impossible. After today, he doubted the Vale would be able to launch another sizable offensive southward anytime soon.
Since his liberation of Saltpan and Maiden Pool a month ago, he was being made use of more on the battlefield. Though Tywin was purportedly still in charge. When their spies had reported of a massive offensive by the enemy, Tywin and Arthur devised a simple strategy. From Harrenhal, Arthur would meet Stannis' forces at Maiden Pool. While the Westerland, led by the Lord of Casterly Rock, would meet the bulk of the Valean army when they tried to link up.
However, they had been tricked; the numbers that the Vale had spewed forth was greater than anticipated and threatened to crush the Westerland forces. Stannis had bypassed Maiden Pool and went straight for King's Landing while words of Renly's army also on the march striking deep into the Crownlands. Thankfully, just as Arthur was about to make his decision, a raven from his wife had arrived. With this new-found knowledge, Arthur rode north to reinforce the Westerland men.
Caught between the Westerland Army and Arthur's own cavalry, the Vale forces shattered like glass. Tywin had been enraged at him for giving away King's Landing, and possibly the Kingdom, but calmed down after being shown his wife's message. With Gywr in tow, Mordred rode with Harrenhal's reserve cavalry of twelve-thousand to reinforce King's Landing. It would no doubt leave a vast swath of their land defenseless, but she had given orders beforehand for all the towns to be reinforced by infantry and archers. It also left Sansa and Daenerys in charge of Harrenhal until he returned. Twelve-thousand in addition to the seven thousand stationed at King's Landing would be able to hold out long enough for Arthur and Tywin to catch Stannis' army from behind.
"Are your men ready?" Tywin asked him. He could tell the sharp-eyed, stern-faced man was assessing him every time they talked. It was ironic that he would end up saving the man that betrayed his blood-father in this world.
"They have been since the morning," Arthur let Tywin know. "We took light casualties."
"All of our available riders are ready father," Jaime Lannister spoke up, acknowledging Arthur with a nod. "We await your command."
Tywin nodded and the sixteen-thousand Westerland riders, with Arthur's own ten-thousand, made their way to King's Landing. Arthur turned around to see the Westerland men stripping the dead Vale soldiers of their armor and weapons. He would estimate that half of the Vale's fighting men were dead on that battle field. What a waste. They were good men, honorable.
The infantry would march when they were ready, but for now they needed speed.
+++ King's Landing +++
As they approached the Capital City of the Seven Kingdoms, Arthur could tell all of the soldiers were tense. They had rested the previous night in anticipation of a long battle ahead, only to be greeted by High Garden banners in Pendragon colors along the walls. Confused, they rode cautiously into the city and were greeted by cheering men from the Reach and Harrenhal.
"I'm going ahead to the Red Keep," Tywin announced to Arthur as he gazed at the still standing city and, most importantly, the lack of enemy ships in the sea. "Secure the area with Jaime."
Jaime looked a bit surprised at the order but nodded to his father.
"I'll sweep the south shores, you do the north?" Jaime divided up their task and made off with his half of the forces.
Arthur looked to Seroah with a nod before he began to delegate and start their own sweep. To his surprise, they did catch several stragglers from Stannis' broken army that were hiding out in the King's Forest. Their accounts of what happened were jumbled, but the only things that stood out were the fact that the King Joffrey had met Stannis' forces at the gate, and the army of Pendragon and Tyrell had surprised them from behind.
In total, they caught a little over two-hundred wounded stragglers, the rest having either broken further or turned to banditry. Arthur delegated a full half of his force to sweep through the northern part of the Crownlands completely, with orders to terminate the bandits with extreme prejudice.
It was to his surprise and delight that, upon his return, he saw his wife at the gate preparing to ride out. Immediately, he looked for Gywr and was pleased to see that his knight had not left his wife unprotected.
"Wife," Arthur greeted as he made his way over to her. The other Pendragon forces had spread out to secure the area and to give them privacy. Mordred was fidgeting with the hem of her coat, not daring to meet his eyes. His face was an emotionless mask as he addressed her. "It was foolish of you to charge into a besieged city. Sending Commander Gywr would have been enough."
Mordred still refused to meet his gaze, but instead looked to Gywr of all people for help. His gender-bent (a term Sansa had used) knight exhaled before looking at Arthur.
"My Lord," Gywr began with a somewhat grudging tone in her voice. "Your lady-wife carried herself very well."
"Oh?" Arthur asked, his face still stern, his eyes boring into Mordred's downtrodden frame. She exuded guilt and all he wanted to do was just hug her, as she was quite adorable like this. But first, he'd tease her just a bit more.
"Yes," Gywr stated flatly, her eyes half-lidded while her face became stoic. "She's a natural - almost as if she's done it before."
Arthur frowned at the way his former knight expressionlessly voiced her assessment. His reborn knight was impossible, and Arthur hated to say it, but Gywr's Mordred conspiracy was beginning to wear thin. He had even asked Gwynn and Lorelei's opinion, both had denied Gywr's allegation when he called a secret meeting with his knights. Even Galina had felt that Mordred was too different from the traitor knight.
"S-Sorry," Mordred voice suddenly made itself known. It was soft and laced with guilt. "But it was something I needed to d-do."
Arthur sighed and smiled as his wife let out a surprised squeak when he drew her into his arms.
Gywr set her jaw and glared at Mordred's back before she looked to Arthur. The two made eye-contact before the Amazon woman relented.
"However-" Gywr began, this time with more appraising tone to her voice, as if revealing a long-kept secret. "Your lady-wife's grasp of tactics and strategy is no less than mine, and perhaps even more."
Arthur saw his wife's golden head turn and felt her body radiate the shock she felt at the large woman's praise. He too was surprised to hear genuine respect from his knight.
"T-Thank you, Lady Gywr." Mordred sincerely replied to the woman, who many in Harrenhal knew disapproved of her for some unknown reason.
"It is merely truth," Gywr waved off the princess' words. "Just continue to serve our k- Lord faithfully."
With that, Gywr rode off and left Arthur and his wife alone. Putting her side-saddle in front of him, his arms preventing her from falling, Arthur let his horse walk through the city at its own pace.
"S-So you are no longer mad at me?" Mordred spoke up finally after they had passed several streets. He could see the common folk pointing at him and his wife. A lot were doing their best to curtsey or bow, to which he nodded in acknowledgment.
"Do you know why I might have been angry with what you had done?" Arthur looked down at the girl in front of him.
"Yes?" Mordred replied uncertainly. After a few moments of silence she bowed her head. "No..."
"It's because of the danger you put yourself in," Arthur decided that he had let her stew in her own guilt long enough as one of his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, their armor making a slight sound as they bumped against each other. "More than that, you risked our potential heir."
Mordred stiffened before she looked up at him with rose-colored cheeks. "I-I'm not … not yet!"
"No, but you could have been," Arthur argued as he put a hand over her stomach. "I don't begrudge you going out to fight in wars, though leading an army was surprising. I had just hoped it would be after you've given me an heir, or two, perhaps even three?"
"A-Arthur~~~!" Mordred hid her face into Arthur's cloak. She was so easy to tease.
Though in truth, Arthur had it all planned out. First Mordred, then Sansa, and at that point he figured he would probably have enough courage for Daenerys...and pray to any and all gods that they would not turn insane or go crazy. Even though, according to Sansa, a woman named "Rin" had said their two dragon souls would purify any abnormality, one could never be too careful when magic was involved. He had firsthand experience as a former female who had grown a man's organ and used said organ back in Camelot.
'Damn meddlesome wizard.'
To Arthur's amusement, Mordred's face was still hidden from his view. Perhaps he might have gone overboard. His wife stayed like that even as they approached the Red Keep, and just as they entered a frantic-seeming Jaime had already mounted up looking uneasy.
"Ah, good-nephew, I was just going out to look for you," Jaime dismounted from his horse and walked over to Arthur. The man was surprised by the presence of his niece as Arthur lowered her to the ground before dismounting himself.
"There were some stragglers, but it looks like all of Stannis' ground forces are dead or have turned to banditry," Arthur reported. Jaime, however, remained agitated. "What's wrong?"
"Your good-father is injured," Jaime lead off with that, making Arthur's eyes widen in surprise. Since Mordred's father was dead, that could only mean Sansa's father. Lord Eddard Stark.
"A Wilding Queen cut off his arm, crippling him," Jaime face looked disturbed by the news. "She led an army that smashed the combined might of the North at Dreadfort."
"That far?!" Arthur asked in genuine surprise. Being married to Sansa, he had decided to learn about the Northern area in more detail. Dreadfort was very close to Winterfell itself. "How was there no warning? Where was the Night's Watch?"
"That's just it," Jaime looked unsettled. "The Night's Watch is gone, wiped out; the Wildlings overran the wall in a single day."
Though Arthur had never seen the wall, he had heard of its immense size. For a Wildling army to achieve that, they must have been extremely well-coordinated.
"Sansa..." Mordred muttered quietly and Arthur realized Sansa would be heartbroken. She loved her father.
"The Northerners are calling for aid to repel the Wildlings," Jaime continued as he assessed Arthur's reactions. "My father intends on denying them."
Arthur grimaced, but he could understand where Tywin was coming from. Still…
"I'll go then," Arthur told his uncle. "This war is well in hand, only Renly is left; between High Garden and the Westerland, you have him dead to rights."
Jaime smiled and nodded. "Figured you'd say that, good-nephew. I'll miss seeing you on the battlefield."
"Just going to a different one," Arthur japed back with a smile. Jaime carried himself well and, for all of the smallfolk's rumors, the man was honorable. Arthur really could not see this same man fucking his sister, but then again, Arthur hadn't seen Lancelot's affair with Guinevere coming either.
"Just so you know," Jaime began in a light tone. "You can call for volunteers from the noble lords. You might be surprised by who turns up."
+++ Stannis- Dragonstone +++
Stannis Baratheon looked upon the water from his ship; he had yet to disembark since returning to Dragonstone. He fleet looked ragged and his men tired. The majority of his landing party had been crushed, and the ships that had made landfall were set ablaze by the enemy. He now only had half of what he had set sail with, including the men.
"I should've listened to you," Stannis told his wife, who had come out to greet him. The priestess he had dismissed before was by her side. She had warned him that Renly would betray him. He hadn't listened, he had thought blood meant something. Honor.
"It is not too late my husband," Selyse Baratheon, his wife, in an out-of-place gesture, gently rubbed his shoulders. "Melisandre has waited for you and believed that you would need her. She and her god will not leave you, unlike Renly."
Stannis looked over to his trusted adviser, Ser Davos, and saw the man's skeptical look. Truth be told, he felt the same. He could see his reflection in the water. Never handsome like his brothers, he had a hawkish face and was balding. Sometimes he wondered if he wasn't a bastard picked up by his father, what with how different he looked.
He had been so close! He had breached the city! Joffrey was in front of him! Victory was his and then the other bastard had shown up. He knew his former niece was fierce, but to lead men into battle? Even then, he might have still been able to eke out a victory. But when Stannis saw the banner of the Tyrells, he knew that Renly had betrayed him. Renly, with Dorne, commanded a sizable army. Even if his younger brother were to bugger everything up, High Garden should not have reached King Landing that fast.
"My Husband?" Selyse prompted. In contrast to his battered and bloodied armor, his wife's dress was clean, if a bit simple.
"I put my faith in men, and they failed me," Stannis tore himself away from his reflection and faced the red priestess. "How can your god help me?"
"You are the Azor Ahai," Melisandre, a woman of great beauty by any standard, took that as a sign and seamlessly floated over to him. "The prince who was promised, the last hero to save this world."
Stannis' eyebrow rose as he looked at his wife.
"Listen to her, there is more at stake here than the battles between men," Selyse reverently replied.
"I have seen it while you were fighting," the red woman tugged Stannis toward a still-lit torch. "A Golden Queen has descended from the north."
Stannis waited patiently. His maester had been the first to tell him of the news concerning the North and their defeat at the hands of a Wilding queen. Though in truth, such an attack affected the other kingdoms more than his, perhaps that would give him time to recuperate.
"I have seen her, with her hair of spun gold and eyes kissed by R'hllor fire," Melisandre gripped his arm tighter. "My god tells me she is the Queen of Heroes. Or rather, a Queen worthy for a hero. Your Queen, King Stannis."
Stannis looked at the priestess of the fire god, somewhat entranced. He could not tear himself away from her hypnotic voice. Soon, she had a hand over his heart.
"You must go north my King, North to claim your Queen. And with her, the army at her command."
Stannis looked to his wife to gauge her reaction to her red priestess' words. To his utter surprise, she nodded her consent. There was no doubt in his mind that she agreed for him to make this Wildling Queen, his Queen.
And why not? Pendragon had multiple wives, why should he not? Especially if she was bestowed upon him by the fire god?
"Yes lord?" the onion knight and Stannis' right-hand man replied.
"As soon as we are able, we go north," Stannis ordered as he gazed in the direction of his future Queen.
AN: Yes, I went there! Bet you wonder how Stannis would go north this time! So yeah, the Storm of Sword comments. For some odd reason, perhaps it been so long, but when I first hinted at the Queen beyond the wall, and Culian, I said that there were only two more heroic spirit that would be introduced into this cross over. Gil and Lancer are those final two. There will not be anymore reincarnated heroic spirit or otherwise joining. No beserker, no rider, nada. AS for Culian identity, I was surprise by how many people that was surprised it was 5th war Lancer.
Also, Lorelei is just a human this time, but extremely skilled, but she have to work out since she let herself be raised like veal. Take time to get those muscle up to snuff to fight again. I decided also that Joffrey would be better suited to a sword and shield combo then straight two hander like Mordred.
As always, Thanks for the reviews! and C+ C welcome reviews appreciated!