GOT : Chapter 52

Ser Cortnay was attempting to ride out. He would be sorely disappointed at the welcoming party he would receive.

But this also meant that he had no reserves left.

"Hold the centre, Lord Velaryon, I will assist Ser Gilbert."

"But, your grace…"

"This is an order, Lord Velaryon!"

...

The silver-haired lord nodded and gave him his horse, a bright destrier decorated with white seahorses. It wasn't long till he reached Ser Gilbert's line, which showed serious signs of wavering. They couldn't. Not now.

"HOLD THE LINE!" Stannis shouted. "THE DAY IS OURS!"

However, his men only grunted, and all he heard was the Stormlander's battle cries.

"KINSLAYER! RENLY BRINGS THE STORM!"

Fools. Renly is dead, and you will be soon if you don't stop this madness.

Yet, the Stormlander's line suddenly began to crack, and men started looking behind them. Suddenly, they were in a full rout, with chants emerging from afar.

"SWIFT AND TRUE! SWIFT AND TRUE!"

"BETRAYAL!" the Stormlanders chanted. "THE FLORENTS HAVE TURNED CLOAK!"

Before Ser Gilbert's line, he saw the Stormlanders being slaughtered by mounted knights of House Florent. One by one, they were cut down, the knights of his wife's house acting like a hammer upon Ser Gilbert's anvil.

The knights then made their way through the line at Stannis' request. A tall knight with a horse decorated with the arms of House Florent rushed to Stannis and raised his helm. It was Alester Florent, the proud lord of Brightwater Keep.

"Your grace, Brightwater Keep and House Florent are yours to command." He nodded. "We have come to serve the true king of Westeros."

"Lord Florent, your arrival is appreciated." Stannis nodded back. "Have some of your men reinforce Ser Gilbert and then come with me and hold the centre. I have left my men for too long."

"As you wish, your grace."

Stannis urged his mount forward, Lord Alester and a few of his knights close behind him. On top of Lord Velaryon's mount, he could see that although the Florents had joined him, the battle was far from over.

His left had been alleviated a lot of pressure, but his opponents had reserves and the Stormlanders hadn't broken as expected. Worse, a few knights led by banners of House Morrigen were trying to flank his left through the woods, and another cavalry charge was being hurried up the hill.

Quickly, Stannis went to reinforce his centre before the line broke. A good thing, as more and more horses kept breaking through, his line shattering bit by bit. He and Alekeyne Florent helped contain the Reachers slipping through his men, whose hate and eagerness seemed to double once they had spotted him and Lord Florent.

"THE FLORENTS HAVE TURNED CLOAK!" a knight of house Hightower shouted before being cut down by one of Stannis' men-at-arms.

It wasn't long till the word would have reached the bottom of the hill. And no word from his left, still.

However, there still was no breach. The flower of the Reach's cavalry was dying before his very eyes, horses falling and men crying out in pain and terror as Stannis' men cut them down the moment they hit the ground.

The day is ours. They will stop charging.

But he could see that this will not last. The Florents gave him precious men but his were dying too, and unlike his opponents, he could hardly replace them with fresh troops. Not with Ser Davos holding off against Ser Cortnay.

Then, a shudder went through his spine.

"RENLY KING! RENLY KING!" came a shout. But that shout was closer than the others. And it was not uttered by a single man, no. It was shouted by at least a dozen.

Stannis turned his head to the left and saw something horrifying. The left had fallen apart and the Reachers and Stormlanders were now exploiting this breach to the fullest.

"FORM A LINE! FORM A LINE!" Stannis shouted, to no avail.

He needed to push back these knights as soon as possible, lest the battle turn against him. Quickly, he rose his sword and shouted:

"FOLLOW ME, MEN! VICTORY IS AT HAND!"

Urging his horse forward, he slammed into the incoming knight, knocking him clean off of his horse. Another jabbed at him, but he managed to disarm him before turning to a third and shoving his sword in the gap of his opponent's helm.

Yet, men were dying all around him. And not only his enemies' but his too. Everywhere, bodies were falling, and soon enough, Lord Velaryon's beautiful destrier was slammed into by a spear and sent Stannis hurdling towards the ground a second time.

"RENLY KING! RENLY KING!" shouted the knights charging at him.

He brought down a knight with a rainbow cloak, recognizing his sigil of that of house Caron, another traitorous house.

"Forgotten your vows, Ser Bryce?" he asked. "Join me and I shall not attaint you as a traitor."

"Bold words coming from a heretic and a kinslayer." The Caron knight stood and charged forwards their steel clashing.

"That's Ser Loras' sword!" Ser Bryce angrily roared.

"He didn't need it anymore." Stannis simply replied.

Ser Bryce raised his sword and tried pushing forwards, but he wasn't half of what the Tyrell knight was. Stannis easily parried his swing, and shoved his own sword into Ser Bryce's sword arm, cutting it clean off where the armor stopped.

"The day is mine, Ser Bryce." Stannis launched at his enemy, raising his sword for the kill. "You would have done well to take my offer."

Ser Bryce Caron laughed, blood running from his stump.

"Look around you, kinslayer." Ser Bryce taunted, before losing consciousness.

And look he did.

Suddenly, everything seemed to come crashing down. His men hadn't formed a line, and more and more men were spilling from the gap in his left. Knights came in with fresh horses and continued slamming into his men, who fell one by one.

He saw Lord Alester being unhorsed and slaughtered by vengeful Reachers. He saw his centre slowly break as they had trouble holding back both the attacks from the left and the front. He saw banners of Goldengrove and Horn Hill cutting through his line like it was made of butter.

And suddenly, Stannis Baratheon, first of his name, realized that the impossible had happened. He had lost. Everything he did…he did it for naught. Dragonstone, Renly…he did it for nothing.

But there was one thing left fighting for. One more little thing. And suddenly, he felt his forces rise tenfold. He ran towards his centre, massacring every man foolish enough to come in his way.

Another man in a rainbow cloak bearing the colors of house Morrigen ran at him screaming something about Renly. He was dealt with. So was a knight of House Fossoway. And another of house Crane.

Suddenly, he came to the man he was looking for.

"Ser Matthos!" he yelled.

"Your grace!" the Seaworth knight yelled, his armor and sword both tainted crimson, so much that one would have mistaken him for a Lannister wielding Red Rain. "We are holding!"

"That is good, Ser Matthos, but I need you to give a message to your father."

"What is it? Shall I tell him to commit his reserves?"

"No," Stannis said, raising his helm. "Tell him to take his men and Melisandre, and leave. Protect Shireen and protect Dragonstone."

"But, your grace…the battle."

"Is lost. It's lost, Ser Matthos, now go! That's an order!"

The knight looked shocked but nodded anyway. He quickly saddled one of the few horses left alive in this butchery and left towards where Ser Davos was holding. He could only hope he too was not overrun.

Meanwhile, Stannis put his helm on one last time, and took out the Tyrell boy's sword, soaked in the blood of Reachers, Stormlanders and Crownlanders alike, for one last dance.

Slowly, he dispatched the knights that came to challenge him one by one. One by one they fell. And he stood.

The Lord of light was with him. And hope was rekindled. He was Azor Ahai, the chosen one, the one that would bring the dawn.

However, a sharp pain in his stomach kept him from advancing further.

Turning around, he saw that a knight of house Grandison had struck him in the chest. Enraged, he took out his anger on the knight, slitting his throat.

Then another pain, in his back. And another one in his legs.

He cried out and fell on his knees.

A few more blades struck him then, knights surrounding him, ripping through him.

No.

No.

It couldn't end.

Not now.

He struggled to try and face his opponents but another pain in his foot sent him down to the ground once more. There was blood. A lot of blood. He could see it on his hands, his sword, his chest. He could taste it in his mouth.

Another blade struck.

This time Stannis fell on his back, feeling the life draining from him.

There would be no great victory. No great destiny. No great rule.

There would only be death.

Stannis didn't curse or weep or pray. Instead, only one word left his lips.

"Shireen…"

And then darkness took him.

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