The Emancipation of Rhaegar

Chapter 68

Fire and Blood

Kingswood

Oberyn had seen flashes of Rhaegar's armour run past him. He had seen the skilled fighters that were the Kingsguard, he was unsure of whom exactly they were, cutting down men like they were a slice of pie. But as of recently, he also saw men, their men, falling to the floor with feathered arrows in their bodies.

They fell in the tens around him, like flies around hot candles. Oberyn watched intently, though it was hard when screaming men were aiming their swords, axes and at one-point hammers at you, he found the culprit. Lyanna Stark, now Baratheon, knelt by a hidden shrub, aiming her arrow at any man she did not recognise as her own. Oberyn broke his way free from the thick of battle, from the stench of blood, and sweat, and piss and vomit, making a break for the girl.

Lyanna noticed him, drawing her arrow to him. Oberyn weaved, knowing all too well a moving target was one not many had a chance of getting. She released her arrow, but it missed him by a hair. Lyanna stood from the ground in a hurry, moving to take the sword next to her. But Oberyn wasn't known to be quick and agile in battle for nothing, he took his spear, the very one that had killed many men before her and threw it at her. Lyanna cried out as the spear met with her right leg. She dropped her sword and clutched on to her thigh in pain.

Oberyn neared her, pulling the spear from her leg, and she screamed out, withering under him. Before he could kill her though, he heard the deep shout of Rhaegar. He ran back to where he had been, where the voice of Rhaegar had been. Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark swung their sword and hammer at him, two on one. Oberyn shot his spear once more, if not one Baratheon, the other would do.

It caught its target this time; Robert fell to the floor with a thump, his heavy hammer falling with him. Oberyn grunted, pulling the spear from Robert's neck and nodding to Rhaegar.

Brandon, who had watched Robert fall to the floor, ducked at Rhaegar's oncoming blow, leaving the King for a short moment. He knew if he did not kill him now, they'd surly lose – it looked that way anyway. The archers that had been hidden had stopped shooting, and he wondered what had happened to them.

He saw Ned from the corner of his eyes, running back onto the field.

Where had he been? He thought to himself, watching as his brother swung his sword at a Lannister solider. It didn't take long for Brandon to figure him out. Ned was always one to have a forgiving and merciful heart.

"In a moment!" Brandon shouted to the first man who he could see, the scaled armour giving away Hoster Tully, "tell them we surrender." Hoster wanted to say something to him, but the young man was already gone.

He pushed past those who stood in his way, unsure of who he was stabbing and swinging at, but knowing he needed to find out exactly what Ned had been up to.

...

"Arianne!" She heard Brandon's voice ringing throughout the forest, it would near her and then his voice would disappear.

Arianne stood up, Baelor still in her hands. She was panicking now, crying as she looked for a place to hide him. By a large tree sat a bed of lilies, the prefect hiding spot. She did a quick prayer; no animals nor men should harm him. And placed him gently down and then taking off the ring that Rhaegar had given her when they were still courting, she put it in his little hand.

"Stay quiet dragon," she whispered to him, covering his body lightly with fallen leaves.

Baelor did as he was told, blinking up at his mother and not registering her departure. Now all he could see was the big blue sky above.