17 Spoils Of War

The Middle of 295 AC, King's Landing.

It was in the very middle of the night when the first ship of the Mad King's fleet was discovered by a member of the city watch. The gold cloak looked more closely and saw that many more ships followed, all bearing the distinctive standard of House Targaryen. The gold cloak's heartbeat rapidly increased as he ran to inform his captain, who would then inform the commander of the City Watch.

As the fleet neared, a growing number of people knew of what was to come. Before, several men from the Royal Navy had arrived to speak on their defeat and the unknown fate of the King. They knew that Aerion had emerged victorious... but they did not anticipate a direct attack on King's Landing, not so soon after facing the Royal Navy.

The City Watch was prepared to face the upcoming threat as per the orders of Lyanna Stark. There were roughly two thousand gold cloaks to protect King's Landing. They would be supported by a few other warriors... but, other than that, there was no one else. Meanwhile, the men of Aerion's fleet were greater in number, more experienced, stronger and ruthless in battle. Above all else, they were led by a far more capable commander.

This battle was destined to be a slaughter from the very beginning.

Aerion's forces landed on the Blackwater Bay through the use of rowing boats. Before the first volley could fall upon his army, Aerion blasted the gate open with a Mighty Roar and followed that up with another Mighty Roar onto the walls. A sizeable number of the archers were sent falling down the wall, which demoralised the rest.

"STORM THE CITY AND KILL EVERY GOLD CLOAK YOU LAY YOUR EYES ON!"

Aerion led the charge, with his temporary shield facing the archers. He ran towards the gate and cut through the first hesitant gold cloak's neck with shocking speed. Another gold cloak attempted to slash towards him but he blocked the blow with his shield. Aerion followed that up with a shield bash to the head, which disorientated the gold cloak.

Aerion left him to the charging horde of undead as his sword could not pierce mail armour well. The true battle started at the gate, where the City Watch gathered and attempted to repel Aerion's forces. The terrifying emerald-flamed skeletons were not the most welcome sight in the middle of the night, frightening a majority of the gold cloaks before they had even started fighting. Meanwhile, the greater undead slaughtered the gold cloaks who stood in their way through sheer brute strength.

Aerion was well protected by his four Kingsguard at a short-range... however, one sneaky archer managed to fire an arrow into his knee. After a slight groan of pain, Aerion's violet gaze narrowed onto the archer and looked up at him with murderous intent.

The archer flinched back slightly before preparing another arrow.

Aerion grimaced in pain after taking the arrow out of his knee but his eyes did not leave the archer as he rose to his feet once more.

"KING'S GUARD, GREATER UNDEAD, WITH ME."

Aerion stormed the walls of King's Landing, joining the soldiers who were already there. He slaughtered every gold cloak who stood in his way and slowly made his way to the archer who was the cause of his pain. Once he got too close, the archer dropped his bow and ran.

"You're going nowhere."

Aerion's wind caught hold of the archer and dragged him closer... against his will, of course. The archer wailed but it was no use as Aerion slit his throat open. After that, his hand formed emerald flames and stole something from the fresh corpse.

It was none other than the archer's soul which he stored within himself. This was the very first time Aerion had utilised the Soul Stealing ability.

"That bastard..."

Aerion leaned against the wall and slowly fell, eventually sitting down as his forces continued onwards.

"Get me that torch, Jaime."

Jaime nodded and walked towards the torch on the walls, lifting it from its place and returning it to Aerion. He grabbed the torch and placed it against his injured knee. Under his fire control, the flames of the torch burst towards his knee, eventually engulfing it entirely in fire.

For a brief moment, Aerion felt even greater pain but it faded as swiftly as it came. Instead, he felt the flames strengthen and heal his injured knee. Eventually, Aerion gathered the strength to stand upright and walk as he had done before the arrow struck.

His eyes turned towards the tallest hill of King's Landing, where the great Red Keep stood. It was his home until the Sack of King's Landing and so, the keep was certainly capable of awakening some of his dormant memories and feelings towards it.

Home... my sweet, blood-soaked home.

Aerion sighed as he thought of the deaths of his two siblings.

"Is something wrong, my prince?" Jaime asked.

"No, it's nothing to be concerned about," Aerion replied. "Let's join with the rest of my army and proceed towards the Red Keep."

Jaime nodded. "Very well."

~

Aerion forced open the doors to the main hall of the Red Keep after his army slew the rest of the defenders. The very first thing he gazed upon was the tall, ugly, yet remarkable Iron Throne. The many steps towards its seat were what he remembered most from his childhood in the Red Keep.

"The throne of Kings," Aerion remarked as he walked closer.

"It can be yours at this very moment if you so wish to claim it," Jaime stated.

"It is already mine," Aerion replied. "Always has been."

"My lord, the drawbridge to Maegor's Holdfast is open." A greater undead stated.

"Who opened it?" Aerion inquired.

"I do not know."

He turned around to face the greater undead warrior. "Go, drag the little stags out of the keep along with their mother. Do not unnecessarily harm them."

"Understood, my lord!"

He then separated a few of his greater undead and flaming skeletons to bring forth the King's treasury and wait for him in the cellar where the dragon skulls were located. After that was dealt with, he walked up the stairs of the Iron Throne.

Aerion sat down on the seat of the Iron Throne and made himself comfortable.

It's not quite what I imagined it to be.

It was nothing more than an intimidating chair. He had read quite a few stories which stated that the Iron Throne was capable of turning the King who sat atop it mad. However, Aerion knew that the chair itself did not have such an ability as that was... well, absurd. The power that came with the Iron Throne, however, was something else entirely. Power was certainly capable of twisting someone.... especially the power of the King.

Upon the emergence of Lyanna Stark and her three children, Aerion smiled slightly.

"It's been a while, Lyanna Stark." He turned his gaze towards the three brown-haired children. "And you three must be the Usurper's little stags. Amusingly enough, the reason why the three of you exist is because of my mercy at the Tower of Joy."

I wonder if their existence is a good consequence of my decision... or a bad one.

He rose and walked down the steps of the Iron Throne at his own pace, each step echoing across the hall.

"Now, I'd like to know if any of you opened the drawbridge to Maegor's Holdfast."

"No, we stayed protected by the Kingsguard." Lyanna Stark replied.

"Then there was a kind Targaryen loyalist within those walls." Aerion smiled. "How brilliant."

"Nevermind my curiosity, I'll be taking one of your children as my prisoner in exchange for the Usurper."

"My father is the king... not the Usurper, you dragon-"

Aerion turned to Artos, who spoke in his father's defence. Instead of inciting his fury, he found the little outrage from the young boy quite amusing. Lyanna stopped him from finishing the word 'dragonspawn' with a rather frightening gaze.

"Finish the sentence, deerling."

"I was going to say... dragon prince."

Aerion chuckled and grabbed his shoulder. "Would you be willing to trade yourself in order to save your father?"

"The realm needs him more than it needs me... so, it would be the right thing to do."

Aerion nodded. "Indeed, it would be."

"Ser Barristan, take Jocelyn Baratheon."

"But my answer..."

"Would you like to join your sister?" Aerion wondered. "I only require one deerling but two wouldn't do much harm."

"I..."

Lyanna grabbed hold of Artos. "No, he will remain here. And Jocelyn..."

"I will take good care of the deerling," Aerion promised.

Although this promise was too good for someone like Robert Baratheon and Lyanna Stark, he gave it nevertheless as the thought of his own mother came to mind.

After that was settled, he went down to the cellar where the skulls of the dragons were located. One caught his immediate attention and that was none other than Balerion's skull. The skull of King Aegon the Conqueror's personal mount, the very same Black Dread who terrified the enemies of House Targaryen.

He had ordered the undead to wait in the cellar for further instructions if

"Carrying it to a ship would be difficult, my lord." One of the greater undead stationed there stated. "But we are capable of completing that task."

Aerion walked closer and observed Balerion's skull. "It would certainly fit on the Mad King. Take Balerion, Vhagar, Meraxes, Vermithor and Caraxes."

"What about the rest?"

"They can stay."

My necromancy is incapable of resurrecting a whole dragon from a mere skull. But... that may well be a possibility in the future. In that case, I only need the most ferocious dragons.

~

After taking what he wanted from King's Landing and storing the dragon skulls on separate ships, Aerion's men rowed the restrained Robert Baratheon to him. Jocelyn was already aboard the Mad King with Ser Jaime and a couple of greater undead keeping a close watch.

Aerion removed the cloth covering Robert Baratheon's head and greeted him with great enthusiasm.

"Welcome back to King's Landing, Your Grace!"

"Fuck off, you dragonspawn."

Aerion chuckled as he waved away Robert's spit with his Aeromancy. "That's no way of greeting the rightful King. If you don't already know, your daughter is my prisoner from now on. Raise your arms against me again and I may have to slit her throat."

Aerion sighed. "I hope you don't make me kill children like the Old Lion tends to do, Usurper."

Robert Baratheon calmed down a little after that statement.

"As my spoils of war, I'll be taking Dragonstone as well as giving you a little scar to remind you and the Realm of your defeat. I suggest you do not flinch... or it will turn out very ugly."

Aerion created a scarlet fireblast and twisted it using his fire control, eventually forming a near-perfect image of the three-headed dragon. He imprinted the dragon onto the left side of Robert's face as he groaned in pain. He made sure that it was a burn that would remain on his face forever.

Aerion kicked Robert towards King's Landing, leaving him groaning in pain.

"I'm sure that someone will come and remove those binds soon."

He coldly turned away from Robert and sat down on the last rowing boat, where his three Kingsguard and some greater undead rowed him to the Mad King.

Now, for Dragonstone.