-Chapter 174-
-POV Rhaenyra Targaryen-
'KILL HIM,' I screamed inwardly, clenching my fists tighter and tighter as the fight dragged on.
'They must finish him as quickly as possible,' I thought, occasionally glancing at Aemon to observe his reactions.
'They need to finish before he decides to intervene.'
I watched Aegon charge headfirst into the fray once again, and just as I was about to inwardly curse the idiots focusing on the wrong target, I felt Alicent's gaze on me.
'Damn,' I thought, tightening my expression, aware that my mask had cracked for a moment and I had betrayed my true thoughts.
My face now back to the blank mask I had worn since the beginning of the melee, I looked at the queen coldly and saw in her eyes a rage and fire that had never burned as fiercely as today.
'She figured it out,' I thought, not really surprised she had reached that conclusion, though I was annoyed she had caught me in the act and deduced it this way.
'Unfortunately for you, it's too late,' I thought, struggling to control every feature of my face so as not to reveal the immense satisfaction I was feeling at the revenge I was now exacting.
I had already taken advantage of the disgrace of the Hightowers at court—brought about by Aemon—to rally most of the Crownlands lords to my side, and I had nearly secured a compromise with Lord Grover Tully.
I threw a quick glance at Laenor, who was slightly frowning but didn't seem truly invested in what was happening.
'And that's why it's time I start finding pawns elsewhere,' I thought, remembering what a servant—whom I paid generously—had told me about what she overheard.
'If Alicent allies with the Baratheons, I'll need an army to match it. The Crownlands and Riverlands will do just fine,' I thought, having not forgotten my initial strategy of using my daughter to capture the heart of Aemon's eldest son.
'If it works, I'll have won the succession war without ever having to raise arms against Aegon, Aemond, or Daeron,' I thought.
I knew full well that even if I disposed of the eldest of my half-brothers, there were still the other offspring of Alicent.
'This has to work so I can buy more time before the others are old enough to inherit,' I thought, knowing father was rapidly losing strength ever since the alchemist Lin Zhi left his service to resume duties under Aemon as punishment.
Alicent finally turned her head away, her expression changing to one of despair, and she pleaded with Viserys:
"Your Majesty, I've lost my father… I can't bear to lose my eldest."
Father, in his great weakness, didn't even reply and simply glanced at Aemon, who didn't seem inclined to intervene.
"What does the Hand of the King think? After all, it is his tournament," my father said, trying to address Aemon, who royally ignored his sovereign.
Aemon turned his gaze away from the fight for a second, then refocused and replied simply:
"If he no longer feels able to fight, he can yield."
I held back the scoff I wanted to let out—classic Aemon.
One moment you think he's on your side, and the next he's pushing you into the abyss without a shred of remorse.
But despite the satisfaction I felt hearing Aemon's words, something felt off.
'I can still understand him abandoning Aegon, given the boy defied him,' I thought, remembering how Aegon fell from Aemon's favor after opening the cells of his uncle Bryndon Hightower, despite them being locked to everyone.
Aegon was a pawn Aemon had shaped entirely from scratch, and there were still younger brothers he could reshape the same way… not to mention if he married one of his sons to Helaena and the others disappeared, he could try to place her as a puppet queen.
What I couldn't understand, however, was him abandoning Cregan.
Cregan, being the last legitimate Stark—aside from Bennard's children, who surely hated him and would betray him at the first chance—it was unthinkable that Aemon would let him die without doing anything.
The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that I was right.
As time passed, I felt increasingly uneasy with this situation.
I kept looking up to the sky for any sign of a shadow… but nothing.
'How are you going to outplay me this time?' I wondered.
---
-POV Artor Rosby-
I watched Osmund Fort, Richard Tully, Eldrick, and a few other squires all attacking the prince, the new Warden of the North, and their supporters, who had managed to regroup around them.
Having defeated the opponents who had blocked my path—mostly commoners disoriented by the chaotic melee—I didn't hesitate and immediately jumped into the fray, shoving Eldrick in the back and making him stumble before quickly placing my sword at his throat.
'Come on, cousin, yield. Don't make me hurt you,' I thought, not wanting to injure him more than necessary.
Eldrick frowned coldly, then dropped his sword before stepping away from me, silently acknowledging his defeat and knowing there was nothing he could do against me, especially with my two "swords" still by my side, while the squire with him lay in the red sand, soaked in the blood of many others.
'So many are dead,' I thought, frowning at the number of victims from lesser houses.
I let out a sigh of relief seeing my younger cousin walk away from the fight, so I wouldn't be forced to really hurt him.
"Edware, I—"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
I didn't even get to finish my sentence before a hulking figure in armor charged at me—and Edware stood between us.
He didn't even have time to raise his shield before the giant's hammer came crashing down on his head, crushing his helmet.
My eyes widened as I saw the new shape of his helm, with blood pouring out in volume.
The brute didn't even spare a second glance at Edware before charging me with the same fury, ready to kill me.
'I can't do anything,' I thought.
The distance was too short, and I was still paralyzed by Edware's death. I couldn't think of anything to get myself out of this.
My body wouldn't move.
Just as I was about to accept my fate, Lord Cregan appeared behind the giant and pierced a piece of his armor with his Valyrian steel sword.
The monster growled in pain—probably grimaced too, though I couldn't see it under his helmet.
Without me realizing, my sneak attack on Eldrick had turned the tide of battle, giving the prince's side—who had been evenly matched—a chance to regain the advantage.
I quickly stepped back out of the colossus's reach and traded my sword for a mace lying nearby, while Rupert, eyes blazing with vengeance, grabbed a flail.
The giant was now surrounded by the three of us, and just as he looked ready to charge at me again, Lord Cregan tried to strike him from behind.
'It's a feint,' I realized—too late to warn the young lord, who noticed it as well… but far too late.
The brute redirected his hammer, landing a backhand blow toward the young Warden of the North, who tried to jump back, but even with his agility, he couldn't stop the hammer. Even with less force behind it, it shattered his left arm.
Craaaack
"Aaaaaah!"
The sound of Cregan's bones breaking sent a chill down my spine—I realized we had only one chance. One mistake and we were all dead.
Just as the monster prepared to finish Cregan off, the young lord shouted:
"I yield!!!"
I frowned, not understanding why he screamed it, hoping it would save his life—especially since blood had already been spilled, and the giant looked bloodthirsty.
Tac Tac Tac Tac Tac
Surprisingly, as soon as the giant took one more step, a rain of arrows hit the ground between him and Lord Stark.
The brute looked up and saw a dozen archers in the stands, bows drawn and ready to fire again.
'That's my key to survival,' I thought, also deciding to yield—but something held me back.
'If I gave up now, my contribution would look pathetic compared to the others'.
'I already burned my bridge with Rhaenyra's side. I need to make a name for myself so the Prince wants to keep me around and rely on me. He's short on support in the Crownlands these days,' I thought, watching how many Crownlanders were fighting for Princess Rhaenyra.
Still deep in thought, I saw the giant turn toward me.
For some reason, in that moment, I had the deep feeling that I was the one he really wanted.
'Why me?' I wondered, not understanding what was happening.
I tried to spot a sigil, to figure out what grudge he held, but there was none.
And just as I was about to let it go, sunlight reflected off the ancestral Valyrian sword of House Stark, lying at his feet—and something clicked.
'He has no technique. If I can get that Valyrian sword and play it right, I might be able to kill him. That would definitely make me stand out,' I thought, deciding to go all-in to take down that force of nature.
I signaled to Rupert that we'd engage him, and he didn't hesitate—he'd been waiting for this.
"AAAAAH!" I yelled, charging to build up my courage and draw his attention to me.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Rupert strike silently from his blind spot.
I swung my mace with all my strength at his head—and the beast just caught it in one hand, like it was a baby's rattle.
Then he grabbed my neck with one hand and squeezed, instantly cutting off my air and slowly choking me.
It didn't last long—Rupert used his flail to strike the back of the giant's head, and it seemed to work: the beast turned slightly, dazed, and let go of me.
That brief pause gave me the chance to leap for House Stark's massive Valyrian steel sword.
'But much lighter than regular swords,' I noted, surprised by the weight difference, even though I'd expected it.
I raised my guard as a hammer neared my skull, and instead of clumsily trying to block it, I struck the weaker plating near his gauntlet—cutting through his arm like butter.
"Hmmmph," grunted the beast, and through his helm, I could see his eyes burning with hate.
"KILL HIM!" shouted Cregan Stark, now outside the melee but still close, clutching his arm.
I yanked my sword free, making the brute growl again as he dropped his hammer, clutching his arm and staring at his own blood.
Then, with a furious howl, he grabbed my throat with both hands—ignoring his injury, even though it should've stopped him from using his right hand.
He slammed me to the ground and crushed me beneath him, putting all his weight on my chest. His knee pinned my right arm, making it impossible to move or raise my sword.
It felt like the entire world was pressing down on me.
I couldn't move.
'I'm going to die,' I thought, struggling with everything I had, feeling the Stranger's breath drawing closer.
"I… I… I yie…eld…" I managed to gasp out—but nothing happened, and I slowly slipped into a realm of darkness.