The Gathering Storm. Part : III

69 AC

The Dragonpit Yard

3rd Person Pov

As the people of King's Landing flocked in droves to the Dragonpit yard. The yard is usually used to host tourneys and plays. The sprawling courtyard, large enough to hold thousands, teemed with men, women, and children—smallfolk and nobles alike.

The rumors of the Faith's treachery had spread through the city like wildfire, igniting a feverish interest in the Crown's decision. Never before had so many gathered in one place, united by a single, terrible curiosity: to witness the King's judgment.

Beneath the burning sun of the early afternoon, the crowd buzzed with excitement and fear. Whispers traveled from mouth to mouth: "Thirteen septons." "Treason against the Crown." "Dragonfire."

At the center of the courtyard, the thirteen septons stood chained to wooden poles, their faces covered, as if to hide their dread. Each man's hands were bound tightly behind his back, their robes dirty and torn. They huddled together, some murmuring silent prayers to the Seven. Their fate had been sealed, and now they awaited the King's judgment.

But the true spectacle lay not in the septons themselves but in the massive shadow that loomed over them.

Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, lay in the center of the yard, his immense form dominating the space. The dragon's great bronze-scaled body gleamed in the sunlight, his wings folded, his head lowered as if sleeping. But even at rest, Vermithor radiated a quiet, lethal power. The crowd stood back, awestruck and terrified by the presence of the monstrous beast. His very breath seemed to shake the earth beneath their feet, and the acrid smell of sulfur filled the air.

King standing on a raised platform, ready to pass his judgment. Turned towards, Ser Clement Crabb, of Kingsgaurd and asked in a soft voice that went unnoticed by anyone. "Are all preparations done, Ser."

"Yes, your grace. Everything is done as per your direction, and with secrecy."

"Good. And what of my wife." He asked, shaking his head with a sense of helplessness, why must his wife never listen to him?

Ser Clement Crabb gave a sheepish smile to his king and said, "Her grace, the Queen has refused to lay silent, hide behind closed doors. Her exact words were, 'Tell my dear husband if he thinks me of a glass doll to keep his side as a decoration, then he can forget the way to my bed chambers from now on.' Your Grace."

Kings looked side-eyed at Ser Clement, he knew the knight was enjoying himself, seeing the ever-strict king helpless with his wife.

"Let her do as she wants. But send more guards from the vessel house, make sure there are no variables, everything must be done as per plan."

"I just need to continue this farce long enough, for this High Septon, to hit his own feet with an axe," King muttered under his breath.

The King then rose to stand on a raised platform, by his Kingsguard and lords loyal to the Crown. His face was hard, his eyes like molten steel as he surveyed the crowd before him. His voice, though calm, carried across the yard with the force of command, amplified by the stillness of the onlookers.

"People of King's Landing," Jaehaerys began, his voice steady and loud, echoing over the heads of thousands, "you have heard the charges. You have witnessed the trial. The Faith of the Seven, under the command of these men, sought to undermine the Crown, to spread lies and rebellion, to defile the very peace we have fought to preserve."

The crowd remained silent, hanging on the King's every word. Many had already heard the tales, but to hear it directly from the King's mouth was something else entirely.

"These men," Jaehaerys continued, his eyes flicking down to the chained septons, "betrayed their sacred vows. They did not serve the Seven. They served only themselves. For this crime—for their treason—their punishment will be swift, and it will be just. For the they have been judged in a fair trial."

Jaehaerys did not pause long, his gaze never wavering. "The gods do not speak through traitors," he said coldly, his words final. "Judgment will be served."

The crowd, watching in awed silence, could feel the weight of the moment. They knew what was to come, and yet none dared look away. Some mothers shielded their children's eyes, while others, hungry for spectacle, pushed forward for a better view.

The King turned toward the dragon. "Vermithor," he called out, his voice soft but filled with the authority that only a Targaryen could command in High Valyrian.

At the sound of his name, the Bronze Fury stirred. Vermithor's head lifted, his eyes—golden and glowing like the embers of a dying fire—focused intently on the chained men. His massive body shifted, wings unfurling slightly, casting a wide shadow over the septons.

The crowd gasped, the air thick with anticipation. The sheer scale of the beast was terrifying, a living weapon of destruction. Even those who had seen dragons before had never witnessed one in this manner: called to execute royal judgment.

Jaehaerys raised his hand, his eyes sweeping over the crowd. "Is there any man or woman here who wishes to object to this judgment?" he asked, his voice carrying a weight that dared none to speak, but had an inviting tone to it.

For a moment, there was silence. But no one moved. The power of the Crown and the might of the dragon, bronze fury nearby were unassailable.

The moment seemed to stretch on forever, and just as Jaehaerys was about to lower his hand, a sudden, sharp sound cut through the silence: laughter.

It was not the mirthful laughter of a man amused, but the wild, broken cackle of someone who had lost all sense of reason. The sound reverberated through the courtyard, chilling the bones of those who heard it.

All eyes turned to the source. It was the High Septon himself, still chained to his post, his eyes wide with madness. His face was pale, his lips curled into a grotesque grin, and he laughed—loud, uncontrolled, as though he were witnessing something only he could see.

For a moment, the entire yard seemed frozen, the crowd unsure of what to make of the spectacle. The High Septon continued to laugh, his voice echoing off the stone walls, until finally, his gaze met the King's.

"You think this is the end?" the High Septon shouted, his voice rising with a manic intensity. "You think the gods will allow this heresy to go unpunished? Do you think your dragons will protect you forever, King Jaehaerys?"

'I cannot let this pass, even if we kill all the dragon spawns. The faith's position will be trampled, I cannot let myself be disrespected any longer. I must seize this opportunity to rally, thousands of Commoners present here, against the king. Soon, the two thousand Faith Militants will strike at Red Keep. I will see how he will burn with his dragon. Then they will hate him even more.' Thought the High Septon, while laughing maniacally.

Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes but remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"The Seven have abandoned you!" the High Septon screamed, his voice hoarse but wild. "I have seen it! I have seen their wrath! They will come for you, King of Ashes! The gods will come, and they will tear your house down, stone by stone, blood by blood!"

The crowd murmured, some shifting uncomfortably. Though the High Septon was bound and powerless, his words carried an eerie weight. There were those among the smallfolk who still clung to the Faith, who feared the wrath of the gods more than the wrath of men. Whispers of fear spread like ripples through the crowd. They were confused, standing at the crossroads.

Before they could gather their thoughts, To which high septon laughed and said, "The population of Westeros is 10-12 million, how many do think to follow than seven, my King? "

He said with a sneer and continued," Minimum 5 million, if you continue to humiliate the faith and yes I am threatening, they will come for you and your wretched family, they will kill you in your sleep, poison your food. Ha ha, Targaryens are sinners. I suggest you ask for my forgiveness and restore Faith of the Seven's status. "

Lords of the realm cursed this high septon, If the current atmosphere wasn't tense enough High Septon who seemed like he had a suicide wish said something.

"Are you threatening me? "King's voice was cold, but a hint of amusement was in his eyes, which was noted by a handful of people, the bronze beast nearby, sensing his rider's fury, let out a screeching roar. Which made everyone present involuntarily take a step back.

But King's eyes burned with fury and said nothing to High septon, turned and said something that sent a chill down the spine of everyone present, even thousands of Commoners never imagined such an outcome, "Ser Clement Crabb, It seems you forgot to take all the culprits. You missed the High Septon and have someone bring one more pole for him."

These were the words that no one would have imagined they would ever hear before coming here today. Burning the High Septon alive was not something that happened every day. There was an uproar of protest, many lords faithful to the seven protested, and begged for mercy, along with three septon accompanying high Sept.

No matter the crimes of high septum such punishment cannot be given to a religious head. Even the hand of the king interjected saying that the king must reconsider this is excessive the people across the seven will revolt against the crown.

King however replied, "Why is that the lords and ladies here opposing me, the law passed by him prior has stated that all men are equal before the law, law dictates the punishment for treachery is death. High Septon hears openly threatens the Crown. Does the lord and ladies present not wish to follow the law and wish to rebel as well?" His voice is cold and straight, sending a message that was well-heard by the lords or ladies.

'Stand aside and watch silently, or you are next.'

High septon was frightened as he saw guards moving towards him, but confidently said, "You cannot do this to me. I am the High septon."

The guard bearing the House Hightower sigil stood between the city watch guards and High Septon. Seeing this King asked, "Does Lord Hightower intend to stand against the crown?"

This made Hightower soldiers cold sweat, they glanced at the Brown Dragon, looking menacingly with his reptilian eyes. They ultimately decided to ignore the words of their lord, who told them to never offend the dragon and to follow the faith deeply rooted in their mind in the people of Oldtown. They shared a glance wanting to become a knight of glory and stories.

The leader shouted, "This is tyranny. This is Maegor's legacy. Does Targaryens want to continue to rule in fear?"

"Oh. Fear. Tell me what you would do in my place. Someone comes threatens to kill my family, in my capital, in my kingdom and you want me to let them go?" King said speaking reasons for his action.

"but I don't need your approval for anything. Guards seize them, bind high septon to the Pole, and put Hightower Guards in dungeons. I will address house Hightower actions, later." King said and thought just one final push.

The High Septon's laugh turned into a scream as the guards moved toward him, their hands reaching to drag him back to his post. Desperate, he wriggled in their grasp, thrashing like a madman, his voice rising in a fevered pitch.

"If you burn me, your heretic son will die!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with panic and malice. The words cut through the air like a knife, sending a ripple of shock through the crowd. For a moment, there was silence—then the murmurs began.

"What did he say?" someone whispered.

"Did he say the King's son?"

The treacherous claim spread like wildfire, infecting the gathered smallfolk and lords alike. It slithered through the crowd, planting seeds of doubt even in the hearts of the faithful.

Could it be true? Could the High Septon—who had once been a symbol of the gods' will—have been corrupted so far as to take a prince hostage? And if so, what had led him to such madness?

On the raised platform, King Jaehaerys narrowed his eyes, his face hardening as he stared down at the trembling figure of the High Septon. The courtiers and nobles shifted uneasily, sensing the storm brewing behind the King's cold gaze.

"What did you say?" Jaehaerys' voice was cold as ice, cutting through the chatter like a blade. His posture remained regal, but there was a tension in his body—a fury barely contained.

The High Septon's eyes gleamed with manic satisfaction, his twisted grin spreading wider. "Ha! Yes, I sent the Faith Militant to capture your heretic son, Baelon! He colludes with the Red Witch and her false god! Burn me, and you'll have his head delivered to you!"

A murmur of disbelief swept through the crowd. Even the most devout among them—those who had knelt before the Seven their entire lives—began to feel the cracks forming in their faith. The High Septon, the supposed voice of the gods, had sunk to threatening the King's son. If he had done this,

"What other evils might the Faith have committed behind our backs?" a woman whispered to her husband.

Her husband replied, "Not only that, it seems they are responsible for rebellion and riots for the past month."

A man nearby cursed and said, "The trade has been shut down. I have bread and meat to sell, but if they rot, how will I feed my family?"

Another man added, "That's right, I am a worker. But there is no one hiring me in fear of rebellion. My daughter has not eaten anything since yesterday."

"Fucking bastards! And all because this old septon wanted to kill an innocent prince."

A grizzled old man, who had lived through the chaos of Maegor's reign, spat on the ground. "Faith Militant, always stirring trouble. I thought they'd been dealt with years ago. The Faith can't let us live peacefully."

The King, however, remained still. His face was expressionless for a moment, his eyes boring into the High Septon with a chilling intensity. Then, to the astonishment of everyone present, Jaehaerys laughed.

The High Septon blinked, the sound catching him off guard. His wild eyes flickered with confusion. This was not the reaction he expected from a father who had just been told his son was in the hands of the enemy.

The laugh was low at first, but it grew, filling the courtyard with a chilling echo. Jaehaerys' shoulders shook with amusement, his lips curling into a mocking smile. It was the laugh of a man who had complete control, of a king who feared nothing—not even the gods. And he was just about done to end this farce.

"High Septon," the King began, his tone laced with icy mockery, "you must be joking. Why would the Faith of the Seven—a holy order dedicated to peace and justice—kidnap the innocent Prince of the Realm? And everybody knows the Faith of the militant was disbanded under the peace treaty."

His words hung in the air, seemingly rhetorical, but they had the effect of stirring the crowd's doubts even further. The people, once silent in awe, began to murmur more loudly. The King's question seemed reasonable. Why indeed would the Faith do such a thing? And if they had, what did that say about the men who were supposed to lead them? Where does Faith militant come from?

But the High Septon, in his madness, failed to notice the tide turning against him. He saw only the executioner's blade hanging over his head, and he continued to grasp at anything that might delay it.

"Your son is a heretic!" the High Septon screeched, his voice rising to a fever pitch. "What else is required? He consorts with the Red Witch, he brings the shadow of an evil god to these shores! His death will be a tribute to the Stranger! If you kill me, the Faith Militant will burn him alive on the pyre, and the gods will see for themselves whether your cursed house is truly unburnt!"

The venom in his voice, the sheer malice of his words, sent a shudder through the crowd. Even the Targaryens, with their dragons and their fire, had never openly spoken of such things with such cruelty. The people recoiled, not from fear, but from disgust. They had come to see justice, but what they were witnessing now was something far darker—a man, supposedly holy, spitting venom with every word.

And it was at that moment that many of them began to wonder: who was the true evil here? The dragonlord king who had ruled in peace, or the man who wore the robes of the gods but spoke like a madman?

The King's eyes blazed with fury, his composure fraying at the edges. "What right do you have," he said, his voice sharp with fury, "to be the judge and executioner of any man—let alone a prince of House Targaryen?"

The Bronze Fury, sensing the growing wrath of his rider, stirred behind the High Septon. Vermithor let out a deafening roar, the sound shaking the very stones of the Dragonpit. The beast's golden eyes blazed with fire, and the crowd fell silent, their hearts pounding in their chests.

The High Septon, thrown off balance by the roar, fell to the ground, his face pale and his hands trembling. He looked up at the dragon towering above him, its mouth curled in a snarl, and his heart nearly burst from his chest in terror.

Jaehaerys' voice cut through the silence like a sword. "You speak of heresy, yet it is you who have betrayed the gods with your ambition and your lies. It is you who have sown chaos and death in the name of righteousness."

"In the name of the Warrior, where is your bravery when you do this, In the name of the Father, where is justice in this, In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent when you try to kill an innocent boy."

"Maybe they were just those, empty words. Like your religion."

The King's words rang true in the ears of the people. Their faith, once unshakable, now wavered as they stared at the pathetic figure of the High Septon on the ground, quivering before the dragon.

King's words today were not merely words, they resonated deeply with the commoners.

"People of Faith of Seven tell me do you wish for religion upon you who in their greed caused the suffering of poor, with rebellion starving people in their homes for the past moon, for what? To kill my son who has been working away from home, building roads for you. TELL ME DO YOU WANT SUCH FAITH?!" King's loud voice filled not only, the hearts of common.

The charisma of the Targaryens has always been a family trait. They all are natural leaders. People of the King's Landing who already saw so much today, felt compelled to follow his lead.

 "NO! NO! We don't want faith!!" People rallied behind him.

"You…. This is Blasphemy. All of you will be cursed. Gods will not forgive this heresy. Their wrath will come on this city. It will cleanse this city, All will die. I have sent two thousand faith militants to this city. They shall kill all of you. They will enact god's wrath on this realm."

High Septon, for all his stature before this trial, in the hearts of people has plummeted to rock bottom. They are not even shocked anymore. But his words did make them worry, as one should be facing such a self-destructive man. A suicide bomber.

King showed a small smile, as if he had fulfilled his purpose today but continued intent to finish this farce. "I don't believe your words, you are just saying this to save your skin, from execution today."

"Hahaha, you foolish King. Any minute now, my faith militant will ambush Red Keep. They drag your wife and children on the streets, they shall be punished for being born of such a sin of incest and you can't do anything. Your dragon cannot save them, you dare use it, and risk killing your family. Hahah…"

"Did he just send those men to kill innocent royal children?"

"Faith has truly rotten to the core. I wonder if not for today, how much longer we would have been in the dark."

"I cannot follow a religion, which follows the teachings of such a man."

"and they say he is the Chosen One of the Seven. I won't choose a man like that to clean my horse's dung."

Talks emerged between Lords and Ladies. But although the words were light, tension was high, as they knew many complications were bound to arise, shortly. Many Powerful houses in Westeros follow the Faith of Seven, It is the most followed religion no doubt about it. Even with the revelation of today, Faith is still prominent in the hearts of most of them.

The Vale of Arryn is considered the most devout of the Kingdoms. The Warrior is one of the more revered aspects of the Seven, as the Knights of the Vale hold themselves to be foremost amongst the knights of Westeros. The Crone is worshipped fiercely in House Lannister. The Reachmen always have been heavily influenced by Faith, with Oldtown as its hub. House Targaryen will not have it easy, if they do execute Faith's High Septon, irrespective of his action.

Just then, a guard of the city watch, came running and knelt in front of Kings and shouted, "Your Grace a horde of Thousands of people have attacked Red Keep, which the castle guards are trying to keep at bay. But may not be able to for much longer. I worry for the safety of the Her Grace and Prince and Princess."

These words sent a sense of dread to the hearts of people present. They considered those words as the delusion of a madmen facing death. But seeing them to be true. They were stunned. All eyes moved towards the king.

How he will react? Any man when his family is threatened is a barrel of wildfire. And The Targaryen's temper is legendary. This incident is enough for the Targaryen to set the world on fire.

"YOU DARE!!" King's voice resounded in the area, and sweat filled the brows of everyone who heard it.

"Ha Ha you can't do anything, I advise you to beg and kneel in front of me, then maybe I will grant your heretic family a merciful death. After having a taste of your wife, I heard she is quite the beauty." High Septon just digging his grave deeper with every word.

Now people attending knew, it didn't matter whether all the Great Houses rallied a rebellion against House Targaryen in the name of Faith. The Royal Family has enough reason to kill every last one of them.

"Now that the Faith has revealed its true color, there is no need for it any longer in my Kingdom. I, Jaehaerys Targaryen, issue that Faith of the Seven is no longer a practiced religion in Westeros. Pep Within a moon, all the Septs and Places of Worship will be removed. After a moon, any man or woman in the clothes of Septon or Septa will be killed on sight."

Septon Barth, The Hand of the King, couldn't believe the words he heard. He fell to his knees, all his life's decisions flashing in front of his eyes.

"Any man, woman, house or family defending Faith will be judged as a traitor to the crown. And will face Fire & Blood. Let this be known in every City, Town, or Village in Westeros."

"And now," Jaehaerys said, his voice heavy with finality, "you will face the judgment of fire."

Before the High Septon could speak again, before he could cry out in one last futile attempt to save himself, Jaehaerys raised his hand. "Vermithor," he commanded in High Valyrain, his voice filled with regal authority, "Dracarys."

The dragon did not wait. Vermithor's massive jaws opened wide, and a torrent of flame poured forth, engulfing the High Septon and other Septons in an instant. Their screams echoed for a heartbeat before they were drowned out by the roar of the flames.

The crowd watched in stunned silence as the man who had once stood as the voice of the gods was reduced to ash before their very eyes.

When the fire finally died down, and all that remained was a pile of charred bones and burnt robes, Jaehaerys turned back to the crowd. His face was calm once more, but his voice carried the weight of judgment.

"Let this day serve as a reminder," he said, his eyes sweeping over the sea of faces, "that no man, not even one who wears the robes of the Faith, is above the law. The gods may judge in the afterlife, but in this realm, justice belongs to the King."

The people, still reeling from the spectacle they had just witnessed, remained silent. But in their hearts, something had changed. The faith they had once held so dearly was no longer unshakable. The High Septon's madness, his cruelty, and his lies had exposed the rot within.

The King turned, his cloak billowing behind him as he strode off the platform. Looked at Ser Clement Crabb, and said, "Enact the plan, I want not a single faith militant fleeing. They will be kept in the newly built prisons for the Justice System, and are sentenced to life of imprisonment."

Septon Barth quickly came to the side of the king and said in a worried voice, "Your Grace, we must hurry. If the two thousand enraged faith-militant breach into Red Keep, I fear for the safety of her majesty and children."

King lightly smiled and said, "My wife and children are not in the Red Keep, Barth." This shocked many small council members flanking the King and listening to the conversation.

They have seen the how angry King was when High Septon claimed to attack Red Keep. However, seeing the King with no sense of urgency and even smiling, made them think something was hidden from them.

"Your grace….I don't understand…" Hand asked.

 "Oh. You don't know, My children have gone on a vacation to Harrenhal to visit their Aunt Rhaena. My wife, well…. There she is."

Just as King finished speaking a roar resounded throughout King's Landing seeing Silverwing, the dragon of Good Queen Alysanne. The silvery she-dragon although known to be docile, was today seemed in fury.

"I know all of you have opinions about my decision today, we will revisit that afterward. First I will ask you to accompany the Ser Clement and enforce my will, no question asked. Red Keep needs stability right now, your presence is required there to maintain peace. Ensure everything returns to normal. I will assist in controlling the crowd with my dragon. Now, if you allow me to join my wife on my dragon."

King left the Crowd towards Vermithor, Climbing up the massive beast, and flying to join his wife in a dragon dance.

The people began to disperse, their faith in the Seven shaken, their loyalty to the Crown reinforced by the King's unwavering display of power. They whispered among themselves, but the question on everyone's mind was the same:

Who could they trust, if not the Faith

As the two dragons danced, all the chaos in King's Landing halted when they heard a loud screech sending a chill up their legs, they looked up to see a new dragon never seen in King's Landing before. Its Blood Red color drew instant attention to it. Although not much in size, its unique serpentine features were frightening.

As it joined two other dragons, this already weakened made the depleting faith militant, who didn't anticipate facing a fully drawn trap at the Red Keep with no Royal Member in it, surrounded by soldiers of House Targaryen lose their last bit of hope.

Red Keep that day, truly earned its name red with the blood of its enemy.

Just then last fighting faith militant group was set on fire, as their screams filled the Red Keep corridors. In the fire, a boy in black clothes, drenched in blood was seen cutting a soldier as butter with a hot knife.

His silver hair gleamed and his face had a bloodthirsty smile as he moved unaffected by fire, as the fire seemed to be controlled by a red-dressed lady behind him. One man on the side holding his severed leg, looked at him saying,

"Monster! Please don't ki…"

"I am enjoying this," Boy said as he plunged his sword into that man's neck, and slashed it, making a fountain of blood.

He with his crazed expression looked outside his window and saw three dragons in the sky, a warm smile formed on his face, completely in contrast to his previous expression.

"Well, it seemed all went well, last-minute plan worked out fine." He said to himself, then looked at the Blood-Wyrm and continued,

"That bastard Aemon, gone alone to claim his dragon…" As he looked another wave of Faith Militant came towards him.

"and is flying out there instead of cleaning these filthy dogs of Faith. Fine have your fun, Brother"

"I will do it myself."