FIC: The Young Wolf's Journey, Chapter 13: An Unfamiliar View (February 2023) (Patreon)

“The Lord of Light will come to your aid, my king,” the red woman said, standing right in front of Stannis and looking directly into his eyes. “Has he not rewarded your faith thus far? Your brother had the full might of the Reach behind him when he tried to usurp your rightful claim to the throne, but the Lord of Light struck him down. He will protect you against Robb Stark’s false claim as well. You are his champion. You are the Prince that was Promised. Trust in the Lord of Light, and victory will be yours.”

Stannis was silent for a long moment, and each passing second felt like an age to Davos Seaworth. He had followed his liege for years. All that he was, all that he had, he owed to Stannis Baratheon, and he had never forgotten that. He had given his loyalty to his king and dutifully followed him on every step of this journey. When the red woman first joined his court and made his skin crawl, he had been Stannis’ man. After Davos had seen that familiar shadow emerge from her and witnessed her foul magic for himself, he still remained Stannis’ man. And even after his four eldest sons had been consumed by the wildfire during the Battleof the Blackwater, he continued to serve the man who had taken his finger joints and given him his luck.

But if Stannis heeded the red woman’s words and did as she asked now, his liege would at last have taken a path that Davos could not follow him down. Davos would do what he could to stop this madness, though he knew it would be futile. It seemed unlikely that he would be able to stop it, and he would almost certainly lose his life in the attempt. But that would not stop him from trying.

“I have done all that you told me I must do,” Stannis said at last. “I said the words. I burned down the idols of the Seven. I broke my sworn vows and trusted in you and your god.”

“He is the only god,” Melisandre said. “And has your trust and your faith been in vain, my king? You sit the Iron Throne. Not the boy Joffrey, not your usurping brother or Robb Stark, but you. You are the one true king—the king who will defeat the great evil to come. But if you are to vanquish the evil that lurks beyond the walls of King’s Landing and defeat an enemy far more fearsome than Robb Stark or his army, you must first pass this trial and give yourself to the Lord of Light utterly. Great victories are not without great sacrifice, my king.”

Stannis set his jaw. “She is not a sacrifice. She is the princess. She is my daughter. And you would have me burn her alive.”

Melisandre leaned in closer to him, speaking earnestly. “She is your Nissa Nissa,” the red woman said. “As Azor Ahai did thousands of years ago, you will make the greatest sacrifice imaginable, and through it you will forge the weapon to defeat the darkness!” She reached her hand out towards his face, and he allowed her to rub his cheek. “You are Azor Ahai reborn, and now you shall prove it!”

Davos watched as Stannis reached up, grabbed Melisandre’s wrist and pulled her hand off of his face. He must have been gripping it with quite a bit of strength, because Davos saw a grimace cross the red woman’s face.

“I will not sacrifice my daughter,” he said. His voice was low, but there was more strength in it than Davos had heard in quite some time. “The throne is mine by rights, and I have honored your Red God and brought him to King’s Landing. If that is not enough to appease him, I will defeat Robb Stark and hold the throne through my own strength.”

Davos knew that their chances of victory appeared grim. They’d had time to repair much of the damage done during the Battle of the Blackwater, and also to bring in mercenaries and sellswords to help replace the forces who had been lost in the battle to take the throne. Robb Stark’s advantages were obvious, and Davos was realistic enough to see them.

But even if Stannis Baratheon’s path would soon reach its end, Davos would willingly follow him as always.

--

Varys was as good as his word, at least when it came to throwing the city gates open for him and his army to enter without resistance. They were already pouring in through the wide open gates before anyone within the city could so much as sound the alarm.

Stannis’ men weren’t completely without fight; there were some who hastily took up their arms and tried to mount a defense once they began to realize that the enemy was already inside the city. But their efforts were little more than a minor annoyance, one that was rather easily put down. Robb’s army would have been able to put it down easily enough on its own, but as he and his honor guard marched through the capital, he saw many of the mercenaries and sellswords Stannis had brought to the city after the Battle of the Blackwater either fleeing, or even turning on those they were supposed to be fighting for and helping Robb’s invading army instead.

Even the City Watch aided Robb's army in rounding up those few who attempted to resist or fight. Robb wasn't sure if Varys had gotten to them ahead of time, or if they simply saw the reality of the situation and were turning their gold cloaks against their current king to save themselves. Either way, between the minimal resistance and the loyal, capable soldiers surrounding him, Robb didn't need to so much as swing his sword during his advance. One lad clutching a spear did come close to slipping through a brief gap during a period of heavier resistance, but Grey Wind growling at him caused him to freeze and turn the other way, saving his life in the doing.

It wasn't until they reached the Red Keep that there was more serious resistance mounted. They obviously had been taken by surprise by Robb's army being let inside the gates of the city in the middle of the night, and thus hadn't had time to get into proper defensive position. But the Red Keep was where Stannis' most loyal men were, and unlike those who had been posted outside, they weren't going to cede the castle without a fight.

A fight they gave, but it was a one-sided one. They fought hard, and they fought admirably, but they had no chance. Robb could merely stand back at a safe distance and let his honor guard and the soldiers moving ahead of them continue to cut a path to the throne room. But when a man wielding a blade came out of a room from behind Dacey, Robb acted swiftly. She was busy swinging at one of the soldiers in front of her, and even if she'd heard the door opening behind her and recognized the potential danger it posed, she wouldn't be able to turn to deal with it without leaving herself open to attack from the other side.

Robb was the king, and she was meant to be guarding him, but that wasn't about to stop him from watching her back. He rushed around from the other side to place himself between Dacey's back and the man who had just emerged, and brought up his sword to turn aside the blow from the short sword of his attacker. Robb watched the man's eyes, and the way they flicked down towards his arm said to him that he was expecting a counterattack from Robb's own sword. Robb instead brought his knee up into the man's gut, making him grunt. Only then did Robb swing his sword at the man who had just had the breath knocked out of his lungs. He hadn't had time to put on proper armor, so Robb's blade met flesh easily enough.

Dacey, who had finished dealing with her own attacker by then, was looking at him with raised eyebrows. "And here I thought I was meant to be guarding you," she said, grinning slightly.

"You're doing a fine job of it," he said, glancing inside the room the man had emerged from to confirm that no one else was about to pop out, weapon in hand. "But if I see another chance to guard you in return on the way to the throne room, I'll take it." Dacey was already turning her head back around so they could resume their march through the Red Keep and to the Iron Throne itself, but he saw that she was smiling as she did.

--

Little Shireen pulled the sheet tighter around her body, nearly up to her head. Davos thought about reassuring the princess that everything would be fine, but kept his mouth shut instead. She may still be a child, but in some ways she was more mature than he was. She was intelligent; too intelligent for such empty platitudes to have any worth. It would not be fine. Their chances of victory against Robb Stark's forces had been slight, and that was with the gates barred to them. Now, with them not only through the outer gates of King's Landing, but even within the Red Keep itself, whatever small chance there had been was gone. There would be no victory. All Davos could do now was keep the princess safe.

He still wasn't sure exactly what had happened; only that someone from within the city had opened the gates and let the invading army in. There had barely been time for him to hurry out of the Tower of the Hand and meet with his king before Stark's men were swarming the Red Keep itself. Davos would have stayed with Stannis to the end, but his liege had entrusted a different task to him. He was to protect the Princess Shireen, and so he would. He would protect her with his life, if necessary.

His hope had been to smuggle her down into the vast underground tunnels of the Red Keep and slip out of the city altogether, but the advance of Stark's men had been too quick for that. It was all that he could do to post a handful of guards outside the door of the princess' room, with the two of them, plus four more guards, on the inside. One of the guards outside would alert them if there appeared to be an opportunity for him to bring the princess out of her room and attempt to smuggle her out, but Davos would not delude himself into thinking that such an alert was coming.

The sounds of screaming and death got louder, and it wasn't long before Davos heard the men he'd posted outside the door engaging in combat themselves. There were more yells and death cries, and while it sounded as if his guards were making their attackers pay in blood, Davos knew that the five men he'd put at the door would only be able to hold out for so long.

Sure enough, there was a loud thud against the door that may have been a body being slammed against it, and then there was banging. He'd leaned Shireen's wardrobe up against the door to make it more difficult to get inside, but eventually they forced their way through. The door cracked, the wardrobe crashed to the floor, and Robb Stark's men burst into the room.

The four guards inside the room were ready to respond, and those unfortunate few of Stark's men who had been first through the door were cut down right away. But each dead Stark man was almost immediately replaced by two more fresh ones, and the guards protecting the princess couldn't fight them all off. They fought well, and a few more Stark men cried out in pain as they were wounded or perhaps even killed. But one by one, the guards got cut down as well. One got stabbed in the gut, another took a spear in the neck, and another got his face bashed in. Davos and the lone remaining guard put up a fight for a time, but the man had his blade ripped from his hands before he was stabbed several times, and then it was just Davos.

One overeager young lad charged him, likely with visions of glory in his head, and received a spear through the head instead. Davos couldn't pull the spear back in time before getting slashed in the side by another man. It was a deep slash, and Davos let the end of the spear fall from his fingers as he stumbled back. His instinct was to put his hand over the wound, but Davos knew that would be pointless. Instead he picked up a sword one of the dead men had been using, and prepared to defend himself against the next attacker.

"Step aside," a man said from somewhere behind the more immediate threats. The closest man was near enough that Davos could see him frown.

"But, Lord Theon--" he began, only to be cut off.

"It's Prince Theon," the first man snapped, clearly annoyed. "Whatever else he might have been, my father was the King of the Iron Islands, and I am his only surviving heir. Now get out of my way."

The three men between them parted, and Theon Greyjoy stepped through the gap, smiling as arrogantly as he had when Davos saw him at the futile peace talks between Robb and King Stannis. "I'm surprised to see you here, Onion Knight," he said. "Thought you'd be with your king."

"I'm right where I need to be," Davos said, holding his sword arm up in preparation for an attack.

Theon's eyes looked past him, to Shireen in her bed, and he smirked. "Yes, I can see that," he said. "Guarding the princess is a noble duty, to be sure. Even one as ugly as her. But you failed, so you may as well step aside." He laughed. "Maybe you can even get that wound seen to before you bleed out."

Rather than stepping aside, Davos positioned himself so he was directly between Theon and Shireen. His message was clear. If Greyjoy wanted to get to the princess, he would have to go through Davos.

Theon's smirk widened. "Oh, good," he said, stepping forward slowly. "I was hoping I'd get to kill a man or two tonight. And killing the Hand of the King's about as good as it gets, aside from killing Stannis himself."

--

There were already shouts, clanging and other clear sounds of battle coming from the throne room by the time Robb and his honor guard approached. They hastened their steps, but upon arrival it was clear that they weren't really needed to aid in the fighting. There were just a few of Stannis' guards still standing in the throne room, and Loras and his men were cutting them down well enough on their own.

There weren't even many bodies on the floor, and Robb quickly noted that Stannis himself was not among them. There were a few different stances Stannis could have taken once he realized that Robb was within the city walls and headed straight for the Red Keep, and he'd honestly thought that planting himself in the throne room and fighting to the death to try and hold his seat was the likeliest choice for Stannis to make. But he wasn't here, so obviously he'd chosen differently. Or maybe someone else had convinced him to take another path.

Robb put the current location of the Baratheon king out of his mind for the moment, looking around the throne room just in case. But he let his sword arm drop as he watched Loras cut down the last man standing, leaving just Robb and those sworn to him in the throne room of the Red Keep.

"No Stannis?" Dacey said, pointing out the same thing Robb had noticed.

Garlan shook his head. "No," he said. "He wasn't here. It was only this small company of guards waiting to defend the throne room. Whatever choice Stannis made when he learned we were inside the city, it didn't involve him physically standing between you and the throne."

"He's hiding like a coward," Loras said roughly. "But I'll find him. I'll find him and drive my spear into his heart."

"Not yet, you won't," Garlan said seriously, putting his hand on his younger brother's shoulder. "Your first duty is to your king and goodbrother. And I believe there's something in this room that King Robb, and our family, have been fighting to reach for all this time."

Garlan looked at Robb expectantly, and his men were looking at him too. Robb looked beyond all the men around him and up at the Iron Throne atop its high platform. He had no particular desire to do so, but there was nothing for it. After a short nod from Dacey, Robb walked across the room and climbed up the stairs one by one. The iron steps were steep, and Robb couldn't imagine anyone in the throne room ever being able to look at him the same way if he stumbled on his way up.

Eventually he reached the throne itself. Robb stared at it, this misshapen hunk of metal and spikes, and nearly laughed. He'd never seen a chair that looked less comfortable in his life. To think that this was the thing so many had fought and died for! It was really about the power, of course, and Robb knew that. Still, as he reached a finger out and slowly ran it across one of the arms of the throne, he couldn't help but ask himself why any man would covet it. It was his to sit in now, but he'd only vowed to take it so the Tyrells would give him the men, food and support he needed to defeat the Lannisters and protect the North, the Riverlands and those who had crowned him king.

But it was his now, and he was going to have to get used to it. He turned and slowly sat down on the Iron Throne for the first time.

He didn't cut himself, thankfully, but the throne was every bit as uncomfortable to sit in as it looked. He looked down from his seat at Dacey, the rest of his honor guard, his goodbrothers and the Tyrell men who were with them, and did his best not to let his unease show. Aegon had probably intended the many steps separating the throne from those who stood at its base as a statement of superiority, but to Robb, it just made him feel lonely and out of place as it sank in that this would be his seat for the rest of his life. Unbidden, his thoughts returned to the words Stannis' red woman had spoken to him when he attempted to treat with either or both of the Baratheons, back before a shadow and an assassination had changed everything.

Your place is north.

Robb didn't disagree. Lord of Winterfell was all he'd ever wanted to be, and even now, he thought of himself as a man of the north. But King's Landing was his home now, and this throne was his.

It was an uncomfortable seat, and a view from a height and distance he'd reached only reluctantly. But it was a seat he would need to get used to.

--

"I do not relish this, you know," Varys said, looking down into the face of Stannis Baratheon. The king was still alive, but such would not be the case for much longer; not with the multiple crossbow bolts Varys had shot into his chest. Already his eyes were growing heavy. "I would sooner have had you remain in power for some time to come. But your war was lost, whether you were willing to admit it or not. So, I took it upon myself to prove my usefulness to Robb Stark by opening the gates and allowing him into the city. He would have taken it sooner or later, but now I'll be close enough to do my part in service of the realm."

He watched as Stannis' eyes closed for a final time, and while he knew there was no one around to hear him, he couldn't resist whispering his secret to the deposed king he'd just led straight to his death. He did not intend for Stannis to be the last king whose death he helped bring about.

"The Stark-Tyrell alliance will fall, and dragons will fly in the Seven Kingdoms once more."