< Tywin Lannister POV >
A surprise attack works best when it remains a surprise, so that's exactly what I did.
The moment those gates opened, With a leading the charge, the amount of time those defending soldiers at the gate had to respond was to short, and they would suffer for it.
As the cavalry charge quickened, nothing in front could remain standing in our way.
With the impact of our horses crashing into soldiers and civilians alike, there was only one final result waiting for them and that was being thrown away.
The charge slowly came to a halt as we would otherwise collide with a wooden stake trap placed at the end of the bridge connecting to the Red Keep.
From atop my horse, I could only commend this battle design as a cold calculation.
Ahead, a final resistance had been assembled. The bridge had been fortified with roughly 500 infantrymen, their shields raised and their faces pale with dread.
This was the reasoning for my commendation, brave soldiers they were, but stupid to think they could contend with a lion.
They formed a desperate barricade between the Red Keep and the townsfolk from where we came. Since they so ever wanted to protect a dying King, then I will break their mind even more.
I signal my cavalry to start going into the streets slaughtering and killing all they like. As I stared down these soldiers in an attempt to strike fear into them.
It was working, I could visibly see the shaking of these Targaryen troops, some probably had a family living here, but honour held them dutybound to stand here and die.
Since these soldiers never left their standing I was allowed to wait here uncontested.
I was staying for my infantry to close the distance and dismantle this last bastion of defiance.
The cries of the vulnerable reached my ears.
These sounds were faint but piercing.
"Help! Please, someone, help!"
"Don't touch her, you monsters!"
"Mom! Mom..."
"Have you seen my wife?! Has anyone seen my wife?!"
Truthfully, I felt unfazed, this was a product of my own doing.
I had known this would happen when I gave the order to sack the city.
I did anticipate what my soldiers would do, but my primary focus had always been made true. I was going to kill King Aerys Targaryen II.
I cannot say entirely though that I did not have a personal grudge when committing this act.
I mean...
'For twenty years, I had served as Hand of the King, and I had done so with preciseness and perfection.
The Seven Kingdoms had flourished under my governance.
What was my reward? Mockery.
Aerys had dishonoured my wife, Joanna, with boorish remarks that still anger me to this day.
Then, when he was never seen at tournaments or events hosted by the realm for a long time, the day I let my son appear to win as a champion. He appeared, and as if to burn down my legacy, he took my golden son from me, shackling Jaime to his Kingsguard.
My heir...my pride... he was reduced to a glorified bodyguard for a madman.'
These memories awakened more irritation in my heart, I wish my eyes could kill all these Targaryen soldiers standing in front of me so I could strangle the King myself.
Sadly there is no such power as eyes killing someone.
As the sound of my soldiers getting into formation and preparing for an attack. I continued to reminisce.
'Love does not rule. Fear does. Only fear ensures that no one will dare to rechallenge House Lannister.
Joanna would hate me for this. I can imagine her voice, its soft and disapproving, chastising me from some distant memory. But Joanna is gone, and my love did not save her. Love could not protect my children.
This world is ruled by power, true power. A power that does not waver under the weight of emotions.'
I kept my gaze fixed on the Red Keep.
My goals remain unchanged. I sent some men to destroy these stakes, but as they did so they, were attacked by those defending close, I lost a lot of men doing this, but once all barricades were destroyed, I couldnt let these pointless deaths continue.
"Enough," My commanding voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
"Fall back into formation."
The clamour of swords clashing and men shouting dimmed as my soldiers steadily paced their retreat from the bridge, never turning their backs to the enemy.
A drill I have taught with the utmost importance.
This bridge had proven costly consequences, the Targaryen defenders clung to this spot like cornered wolves, not like the Stark house wolves, no but more like whelps/ if we stay true to their beasts on that sigil. Although it was small comparison is brought a chuckle to me.
However, I would not waste my men here, not when I have already thought of a better idea.
Pulling my horseback a few paces, I surveyed the battle with an unflinching gaze.
The bridge was full of corpses, and even soon we may have to climb over them to reach the other side.
I wanted to finish this before the rebel army arrived or else I won't have much say since I had previously stayed neutral.
I could see their defense faltering, barely being held together. Their leader, a grizzled looking knight with a dented helmet, actively commanding his remaining soldiers to hold the line, but I could still see a lot of the soldiers shaking in fear.
Without a second to lose, I started to strategize my men for a strong final push.
My infantry soldiers fell into a disciplined phalanx, shields locked together in an impenetrable wall. Behind them, spearmen readied their weapons, placing them through the gaps of the shields. Archers moved into position, their bows ready.
"Knock!"
The archers drew their strings in unison, a sharp thrum as they prepared to unleash death.
Across the bridge, I saw the Targaryen defenders glance upward, fear flickering in their eyes.
Their pitiful shields, either mismatched or too small to cover their bodies, were being clutched tighter to cover there vital spots. Their formation had no depth, no strategy just a desperate cluster of bodies hoping to hold the line. I was gonna exploit this.
"Loose!"
The air whistled as a black rain of arrows descended upon the bridge. The Targaryen men screamed as the metal barbs pierced their flesh. Some did manage to raise their shields in time, only for the force of the arrows to knock them back.
Some unlucky soldiers had the arrow shot into the arm holding the shield attaching it to them.
"March!"
The phalanx advanced steadily, shields raised, spears thrusting through the gaps, moving together at a deadly pace.
"Stab!"
The command echoed, and my men obeyed with cruel efficiency. Each spear jabbed forward, claiming another life, and driving the Targaryen soldiers back.
The Targaryen soldiers faltered, stepping over the bodies of their comrades as they tried to maintain their position.
Rallying around their leader, who shouted hoarse encouragements. Their bravery was commendable but ultimately hopeless.
"Hold!" I raised my hand, signalling my men to halt their advance.
The Targaryen soldiers, battered and bloodied, hesitated with uncertainty, unsure if this was another trap. I let them feel this insecurity for a little bit longer, watching as their eyes darted between my disciplined ranks and the sea of bodies lingering on the bridge.
After showcasing my strength I wanted to see if I could make them surrender, I am not planning to accept it, but time is of the essence, and anything will do.
"Men of the Targaryen army," My voice seemingly pierced their very souls as they started to shake, my gaze lingering on every one of them.
"I offer you terms, Lay down your arms, and you will be spared. Resist, and as you already saw from the dead soldiers in front of you, that you will never survive."
I watched on as the defenders exchanged uncertain glances with each other. Sometimes a commander isn't needed to make a decision but the people themselves.
The knight who was giving orders before hesitated, seemingly noticing my words may have worked, as the already seemingly thin line of any moral he had given, seemed to be gone now.
It's a habit humans have, if we can quit something without repercussions we tend to want to do it.
I will exploit that very feeling now.
First, from despair to relief. I am certain they will accept this surrender.
The battlefield grew unnaturally quiet, the only sounds were the groans of the wounded and the distant cries from the civilians behind us.
Finally, a single soldier stepped forward, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I-I- I surrender," he called out, his voice heavy with fear and trepidation.
He let go of his sword, the sound of the sword bouncing off the ground was particularly loud when no one made noise. His sword was like a beacon, once he did it, the rest soon followed suit.
Although I had said I would let them surrender, I was just saying it to let them let down their guard. When I came inside the city to sack today, I was not gonna let any Targaryen loyalist leave alive.
"Advance," I ordered coldly.
My phalanx moved forward, shields and spears at the ready.
The sudden approach of soldiers in a rhythmic march startled those who surrendered, stepping back slowly. Without weapons, they were unable to stop as my soldiers continued to full-on attack.
As the last of the defenders fell, I turned my gaze toward the Red Keep.
The bridge was ours, and so was anything else stopping me and my army from achieving my goals.
Inside the Red Keep, I strode forward towards the throne room, I would occasionally come across some straggling soldiers that came rushing at me, that was their own undoing, because the soldier following behind me would take care of them before even reaching me.
My men secured the remaining corridors. As I finally reached the great doors to the Throne Room. Behind these doors I knew the Mad King was there. I already planned what I would tell him as he died.
I gave a nod to two of my men signaling I was ready as they stepped forward and pressed their weight against the doors. With a quick motion, the doors swung open, as my remaining soldiers raised weapons ready for battle.
But what we laid upon stopped me in my tracks.
The room was eerily silent, and that's when I saw him... Aeyrs... beneath the Iron Throne, his lifeless eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.
With a stab wound in his chest, and a slit throat, leaving his royal robes stained in blood.
But it was the figure seated on the Iron Throne that truly caught my attention.
My son... Jaime.
"I killed him," Jaime said, his voice trembling with the weight of what he had done. It also brought me out of my stunned mind.
"Yes... You did." My words were stale, showing neither approval nor condemnation.
Understanding that what I was gonna say next should not be heard by a third person, I gestured for my men to leave the room.
Hearing their boots gradually disappearing and the sound of closing the doors behind me.
Now it was only a father and son, lord and knight, lion and his cub.
I started walking slowly, the sound of my steps being the only sound heard in this room
My gaze sweeping the room before looking back at my son. He looked older than I remembered, despite the bloodied Kingsguard armour he wore.
Memories flooded me, of when Joanna was still alive, when I trained Jaimie into what he is now. I saw the boy he had been, desperate to please me, and eager for my approval.
"Do you know what happens now?" I asked, my tone trying to appear stern, however I still felt I might have shown a little too much emotion. Afterall if my plan doesn't succeed then wont I have to watch my son die?
Jaime hesitated, his eyes searching mine for an answer, for guidance. I could tell he knew the answer already, but he probably hoped deep down that I could get him out of it.
Taking a deep breath, and hiding my kindness, I say coldly "A Kingsguard who kills his king is a traitor," I start stepping closer attempting to apply pressure and hiding my emotions. "And the punishment for treason is death." I heavily insinuate the last word of death.
Jaime's face paled. I knew this was the moment for my punchline, although this conversation tactic is good for controlling the flow, he was my son after all and I still loved him dearly.
"But," I continued, my voice softening ever so slightly, "I will not let that happen. You have done a great service to the realm, even if the realm does not yet realize it. You have slayed a tyrant and a madman, Jaime. We will use that to our advantage."
I can see flicker of relief on his face, but then he starts to put on a look of thinking.
"Robert Baratheon will sit on the Iron Throne," I stated. "He has the blood of Targaryen kings from his grandmother which can allow him to lawfully claim the throne."
I examined Jaime's reaction carefully, noting the subtle shifts in his expression.
"You will likely be sent to the Wall," I continued, "to take the black. It is the most lenient punishment for breaking your vows, and it will soothe the new king and his allies." taking a long pause to let him better understand his situation I envision.
"However, the Night's Watch is always in need of resources and men, and no heir of mine will languish in such a place for long. I plan to redeem you" I say with a slight curl on my lips.
I looked to see Jaime swallowing hard, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He looked away, his gaze falling to the bloodstained floor.
"You will return to Casterly Rock," I said, my tone leaving no argument. "And you will rule at my side. I will not have my legacy tarnished by this act, necessary though it was."
Pausing, I tilted my head slightly, studying his face once more, but this time a lot more serious. "I plan to wed your sister to Robert Baratheon. It will solidify our power and ensure we have more influence on this realm."
At the mention of my daughter Cersei, I remember something I had heard from my squire, I let my voice grow colder. "I have heard rumours about the two of you... rumours I do not wish to entertain. I trust you understand the consequences of such accusations, true or false. Our house will not fall into disgrace. Not now. Not ever."
Jaime's face betrayed nothing, If he felt guilt or shame, he buried it deep. At least I was deeply pleased with my findings, and I believe these must have just been rumours after all.
"I will handle the rest," I concluded. "The rebel army will arrive soon to find the Mad King dead and the way to the throne clear. You will stay here and await their arrival. Have I made myself clear?"
Jaime nodded, his movements stiff.
I turned around without another word, I was leaving to go and wait for Robert and his army to arrive, but just before I left I paused, glancing to the hundreds of Lannister soldiers in the hall.
"Leave twenty men here," I commanded "Ensure that Kingsguard Jaime Lannister does not leave this room. Appearances must be maintained."
The door shut behind me, leaving a resounding thud, As I walked away, my mind started to turn, thinking of my next move in this endless game.
The Iron Throne would belong to Robert Baratheon, but the realm itself would belong to the Lannisters.
And Jaime? He would learn, as I had, that duty to our house outweighed everything else. He will learn, just like what my father taught me.
Hello everyone, you may feel this chapter is a little different writing, or maybe not, which is what I hope. I just wanted to bring it up because,e from this chapter onwards, I will now be using Grammarly.
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Before, I was writing in Inkstone (where we upload our chapters for those who don't know), and there wasn't much help checking grammatical errors.
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I was thinking I might edit the first nine chapters later, rewording and revising them.
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Thank you everyone for being here!
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2,700 Words~
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