Ever since Laena had arrived at the Dun Fort, things had become a lot more fun, and for this, Alyssa was very thankful. No one in her own household could ever share time with her. Her older cousin Annara was always busy, and always seemed to be in a sour mood. Her brother, Jaremy, was rarely seen around the keep. Her father, Ser Jon Darklyn, was often busy with the soldiers, especially with the rebellion. Her Uncle Dale and Aunt Alysanne were always occupied with court. It didn’t help that she was one of the few young girls in the castle, and hence had become incredibly bored the older she became. With Laena, that all changed. It didn’t even matter that she was the Lady of Duskendale, and Alyssa was the daughter of a courtier; they were both young girls, living in the midst of court life, and that was enough to form a special bond between them.
Laena had begun to be tutored by the Dun Fort’s maester, Albar. Their lessons happened in the early morning, well into the afternoon, some time after lunch. After she had eaten, Alyssa would wander close to the maester’s tower and practice her balance on a series of upraised stones while she waited for Laena to be done. When the young lady was dismissed, she would join her friend, and the two of them would begin to walk the ramparts of the outer wall.
“Is Albar a smart maester?” Alyssa asked one day.
Laena nodded.
Alyssa moved a bit closer. She’d learned early on that in order to get Laena to open up more, one had to get close enough for her to whisper, or speak just loud enough to avoid the stutter. “What does he teach you?”
“Right now, stewardship, Westerosi history...” Laena sighed. “He says that when he hopes to teach me on womanhood before I… before I flower.”
Alyssa shivered at that. Her Aunt Alyssane had taken it upon herself to teach her some of what she would expect as a woman, and it was awkward enough. She could not imagine what it would be like from an older man with a chain around his neck. “Is he a nice maester?”
Laena nodded again. “Father and he were good friends. When he gets tired of a lesson, I ask him about father, and he always speaks well of him.”
Alyssa felt jealous of that. She’d been around when the famed Unicorn Prince lived, but she had little to no memories of him. She thought she remembered him riding on horseback at a tourney, but she wasn’t sure if it was him, or a mixture of him and a tapestry in the great hall. The way some spoke of the Unicorn Prince, he was seen as someone who must have come straight from the Age of Heroes. “Do you think he will make you a smart lord?”
“He says he hopes so.” A soft laugh left Laena’s lips. “He says that he taught mother. He says I am already much more of a sponge to knowledge than she ever was.”
Alyssa shared the giggle with her friend. She’d experienced enough of Lady Rhaena Targaryen to know that she was sometimes stubborn and prideful. The way Cousin Annara spoke of her, one would have thought she was just as bad as Rhaenyra supposedly had been, though Alyssa didn’t think Lady Rhaena was
that bad. When you caught her on good days, she could be a pleasant woman.
“Have you seen your mother at all yet?”
Laena shook her head. In a sad tone, she said, “Mother is still out in the war.”
Alyssa frowned. She looked past her friend, past the ramparts, and into the Duskendale countryside. “I hope the war ends soon.”
“As do I.”
News, however, only went from bad to worse. There came a day Alyssa went to the maester’s tower, and found that neither Laena nor Albar were there. She went through the Dun Fort, and finally found Laena sitting on her chair atop the dais in the council chamber. The young girl was reclined back against the stone, one hand over the eyes on her limping head. Alyssa approached her gingerly, then asked in a low voice, “Are you alright?”
“Albar has been busy all morning,” Laena said. Her voice was loud enough for a crackle to be heard. “Much of the council is. It seems the rebellion has grown: Lady Marya Byrch wants this chair, now.”
This came as a shock to the Darklyn girl. Hadn’t Marya’s kinsman tried to usurp power from Laena’s father? Hadn’t he failed in that mission? Had Marya learned nothing? Or did she think she could do better, now that the land was rife with rebellion, and the Valzyren position weakened? Alyssa sighed in an annoyed tone. “That is not fair. Why do they all want your throne? I cannot even see how it is comfortable to sit on. And why are they so intent on not giving you a chance?”
Laena lowered her hand, and Alyssa could see red in the girl’s eyes. “They do not care. None of them. None of the nobles respect me, and I think some in the council do not even fancy me a worthy lady.”
Alyssa knew all too well that those words were true. She had heard Cousin Annara mutter cruel things about her friend, and her friend’s mother, as if she didn’t care of Alyssa could overhear. One time, when Alyssa was younger, Cousin Annara had remarked, in a bitter tone, that Lady Rhaena was never going to die. When Alyssa innocently asked her mother if this meant that Lady Rhaena was immortal, her mother only said that she shouldn’t repeat what she’d heard to anyone else.
“It is not fair!” Laena stood and paced about the dais. “Why should I suffer for the mistakes of others? Why was I placed here? To be a chopping block in place of my brother? Do you know he has begun to drool regularly now?” She raised her voice now. “I want to m-m-m-mur-r-d-d-der th-th-th...” She growled loudly and shook her hands in fists. “Kill him!” The cry was so loud it echoed off the halls.
Alyssa was frozen in place as she looked at all this. She had yet to see Laena this upset, let alone hear her speak such words about her kinsman. After a rather awkward silence, all she could manage was, “You cannot say that, not about your brother.”
“He is partly to blame for all this.” Laena gripped her hands together tighter. “I have asked Albar about the causes of this rebellion: how it all came about, what inflamed it so – and my betrothal to Daemon was one of them. My mother wanted us to follow Targaryen tradition. She wanted us to be like good Valyrians. The nobles were enraged by that. Then Daemon took to insanity and madness, and they knew he would not be a good fit. Now it does not matter who I am, for my mother comes a fallen house, and my brother is enshrouded with insanity. I come from the same stock as they, and that is all the nobles are concerned about.” She shook her head, then slammed her fist against the armrest. She immediately whimpered and clutched the hand.
Alyssa stepped up onto the dais and took her friend’s hand. As she looked it over, she offered a tender smile. “There is still hope, is there not? Your mother-”
“Is up north,” Laena finished. She sighed, her eyes closing. Alyssa could feel the girl’s fingers relax in her grip. “She is fighting the other rebels – the ones already in rebellion. And Alesander, House Hollard’s top commander, has enlisted the aid of Hedgeknights to fight against us. Meanwhile, the Byrch forces are already on the move. They will make straight for the Dun Fort, I just know it. And mother will be busy engaging in her endless battles while the Byrch rebels march right up to the Dun Fort.”
“But we have our walls. We will be safe behind them, will we not?”
“Even so,” Laena continued, her eyes still closed, “I have heard rumors. Rumors that have reached my ears. Rumors that they want to negotiate with some of the rebels. They will offer that I will step down, and permit my brother, or my mother, to take my place.”
Alyssa blinked. “But I thought that you were brought here because they did not want your brother or mother leading?”
“Some might question my skill. They know my brother is mad and my mother foolish, but as for me? They know nothing of me. Some of the rebel nobles would rather have a predictable mess than an unpredictable one, and those who call themselves my allies, even those on my own council, wish to utilize that to bring peace.” Laena opened her eyes now. Alyssa felt a slight chill run down her spine as the violet orbs looked straight at her. Her whispering voice was like a serpent’s hiss. “If these nobles think I will surrender, or permit them to step over me as they have others, then they shall be find themselves in shock. I will not step down, nor will I give up my position eagerly. The blood which courses through my veins is that of a unicorn… and though a unicorn may seem noble, it still has a horn.”
The look in Laena’s eyes, and the tone in her voice, was one which haunted Alyssa for days. It was not the shy, unsure noble girl that she had spoken to so often in the past. It was not the smiling, cheerful little girl who shared her desires to sneak bread from the scullery or escape to the stables to pet the horses. Something within her had been untapped, and had been brought up. There was no innocence or joy in those violet eyes of hers. Even at night, when Alyssa closed her eyes to sleep, she saw those violet orbs staring back at her, and heard that whispering hiss descend from the darkness around her.
All the same, she continued to spend time with Laena over the next few days. Her fears proved true, as word reached the Dun Fort that a large force of Byrch supporters had marched from Byrch Hall and were coming quickly to Duskendale itself. Messengers were sent north to alert Lady Rhaena, but most were aware that she was engaging the other rebels in battle. The forces inside the Dun Fort were meager, and though it was estimated they could put up a fight, it was believed that any siege would only end in a Byrch victory.
“The case then would be serious,” explained Albar at a council meeting. “For not only would House Byrch have their banners over the Dun Fort, but they would have important members of court – including our Lady Laena.”
His eyes shifted from the council to Laena herself. Alyssa had been permitted by Laena to attend the meeting, and could see her friend sitting on the throne atop the dais. She had been sitting quietly for much of the meeting, with her silver-haired head resting against the stone. All throughout the meeting, as the situation report was given, she had said nothing, but glanced her eyes from one council member to another. From what Alyssa had been told, this had been often what she did at council meetings. Albar had instructed her that he would speak for her, or give subtle hints in his language about how she should respond, should an answer be pressed from her noble lips. More often than not, Laena had told Alyssa, she didn’t say anything at all.
“We cannot have that,” said Cousin Alanna. She smiled sweetly at Laena. “My dear noble lady, I can send for some of my women, and they can safeguard you out of the Dun Fort, to the south. Perhaps King Daeron would permit you to stay at King’s Landing? He did love your father, so, my dear child.”
Laena stared at Alanna. She said nothing at first. Alanna’s smile faded a little as silence lingered in the room, and many of the council members were glancing from Laena to Alanna and back again. Even Albar began to tug on his chain a bit. Finally, Laena spoke, and in her usual quiet voice. “Would I even make it alive to King’s Landing?”
For the first time in all her life, Alyssa saw her cousin blush. Her pudgy cheeks turned red, and the whites of her eyes subtly became more pronounced. “My lady, what are you suggesting?”
Laena grinned now. Alyssa had seen Laena grin many times, and knew this one was not sincere. “I mean, would I run into bandits, or…?”
Alanna’s face relaxed, though the nervous gleam in her eye never evaporated. “Oh, no, my lady, we would make certain you are safe.”
“Yes.” The end of the word was prolonged, like the hiss of a snake. Laena leaned forward. “I am sure you would make absolute certain you had control over my safety.”
Alanna took a step back. Her soft cheeks bulged as her lips pressed tightly together.
Laena turned her eyes to the entire council now. She gazed at Albar, as if waiting for him to keep her from speaking. When the maester, still tugging on his chain, spoke not a word, she gazed back to the council again. She spoke out loud. “Hear m-m-m-m-me… I w-w-w-will not l-l-l-l-leave.”
Albar swallowed. “My lady, that is ill advised. If they take you, the rebellion will have an edge over your mother. You will be a prized prisoner, and if you are captured, Marya Byrch will surely be gazing out from the Dun Fort as master of Duskendale. Or, if anything terrible were to happen to you-”
Laena smiled at Albar. This one, Alyssa knew, was sincere. “I know you are concerned for me, Albar.” Her voice was soft again. Some of the council members further away had to step forward to hear her better. “However, we must have faith in this season. What would my father, the Unicorn Prince, do in this situation?”
Albar grimaced. He knew that she already knew the answer. “He would stay behind the walls, and command his men.”
“Then as the stallion would do, so shall the mare.” She stood then. Her skirt fluttered about her feet as it was freed from being pressed against the chair. “As far as I am concerned, the meeting is adjourned.” With that, she stepped down the dais and, without meeting the eyes of anyone else – not even Albar, continued on to the door. As she neared it, she did look at Alyssa, and motioned for her to follow her. Alyssa paused only to let Laena out the door, then glanced at Cousin Alanna. The spymaster was gazing at the back of Laena with a great fire in her eyes that Alyssa knew signified anger. She then turned and met Alyssa, and that fire only grew more intense. Alyssa felt her knees wobble, and at once she turned and darted out the door.
“I think you made my kinswoman upset,” Alyssa told Laena. “She will be screaming her lungs out tonight for certain.”
Laena did not answer, but continued her steps. She was walking briskly, through the dark, stony halls of the Dun Fort, towards the north. Alyssa caught on quickly where they were headed: the Dun Fort’s septry. Once they arrived, Laena stepped up towards the statue of the Father and descended to her knees. She looked up at Alyssa. “Will you join me in prayer?”
Alyssa nodded, and took a spot beside her friend. “You think the Seven will come to your aid?”
Laena’s violet eyes lifted up to look at the Father. “When I came here, I had a dream. A great, evil beast, like a serpent, sought to devour me. A white unicorn came in, then, and killed it. No sooner afterward, it had died. I know not how to properly interpret the dream. Perhaps the unicorn was my father. Perhaps it was symbolic of my house, and the trouble it will go through. I only know one thing… some great evil sought to destroy me long ago, and failed. I was protected by divine forces. Therefore, I know that the Seven will come to my aid now.”
Suddenly, Laena closed her eyes, dipped her head, and began to pray. Yet she did not pray quietly, or with a whisper – it was aloud. And not a single stutter or hesitation could be heard. Alyssa blinked, her eyes going wide in astonishment. Never before had she heard Laena’s voice so clear, and without the adulteration of her stutter. She was so surprised that, when Laena cast a sideways glance at her, Alyssa realized that she was staring rather than praying. Quickly, she lowered her head as well, and clasped her hands together, and listened.
It was perhaps a week later that bells rang out from the keep, followed by shouts in the courtyard of, “They are here! They are here! To the walls!”
Alyssa had thrown on a robe and her slippers, and was darting towards Laena’s room to make certain her friend was alright. When she found the room empty, she knew there could only be one other location. Sure enough, as she ran out into the courtyard, she saw her friend ascending the steps towards the outer wall. She was wearing a lovely silk dress that clung to her young figure, and she held her skirt up as she stepped as if she were simply going for a stroll. Meanwhile, all about the courtyard, men and officers were running back and forth, carrying bows, spears, and swords as they ran to take their places. It was so surreal a contrast that, for a moment, Alyssa pondered if she was merely imagining Laena. She was out of place among the dust and armored footmen rising about the scene. Yet after a few seconds, she realized that, indeed, Laena was there, going to the ramparts.
The Darklyn girl ran across the courtyard and up the steps herself, going as fast as she could to catch her friend. She arrived just in time to see Laena stepped up to the edge of the wall. Two soldiers, one tall and the other lanky, turned and saw her. They immediately saluted. “M’lady! What are you doing here?”
She pointed towards the enemy. “I want to see them.”
“But ye might get hurt,” said the lanky soldier.
Laena shook her head, and said no more.
Alyssa stepped up beside Laena, and was immediately distracted by the sight beyond. It was the levy of House Byrch, arrayed around most of the Dun Fort. They had avoided Duskendale for the most part, save for the sections which drew close to the Dun Fort, and some of those structures seemed to have been lit ablaze. The banners bearing the familiar sigil fluttered in the wind. Nearly a thousand men were arrayed in neat lines, like something from a painting. It was the first battle Alyssa had ever seen – and she hoped, after today, it would be her last. In fact, she hoped that this sight would be the only part of the battle she saw.
“What are you doing here?” Laena had seen her, and her brows were furrowed in concern.
“I wanted to check on you,” Alyssa said matter-of-factly.
“A rider is coming towards us!”
There was indeed a rider coming out from the rebel lines. He was flanked by two knights, and he himself wore heavy armor. He had one fist raised in a gesture of peace. As soon as he drew close to the walls, he slowed his horse. The man on horseback now lifted his gaze towards the wall. He was an older man, with white hair graying the beard around his mouth. His eyes scanned the precipice, then he shouted, “Hear this, defenders of the Dun Fort! I, Ser Balon Byrch, speaking on behalf of her ladyship, Marya Byrch, address you. Your forces are outnumbered. Your Targaryen and her dragon are distracted up north, while you have been left here. The situation overall is hopeless Therefore, will you parley to discuss surrender terms?”
Laena stared stoically at the man. Her skirt fluttered in the wind like a banner. Finally, she whispered to the footman beside her, “Ronnel… tell him to go to the Seven Hells.”
The footman grinned, then leaned over the edge of the wall. He lifted his voice as he spoke. “My apologies, Ser Balon Byrch, speaking on behalf of her ladyship, Marya Byrch. I am afraid we do not have enough room in here to take you all prisoner.”
Ser Balon blinked. “...what?”
“We therefore regret that we will not be able to accept your surrender.”
Across the Dun Fort ramparts, laughter broke out from the troops. Balon’s lips tightened. Underneath his helmet, his face turned red.
The footman blinked. “Oh… was there anything else?”
The Byrch soldier said not another word, but spun his horse around and galloped back to his lines.
“Well, I think that went well,” said the lanky footman.
No sooner had Ser Balon returned to the lines that a horn was sounded. The soldiers in the enemy lines gave a cry, and lifted up their weapons. Swords, spears, and even arrowheads glistened in the sunlight. Armor glinted as it shifted about. The countless formations moved forward, with the Byrch banners fluttering in the winds. Some of them carried ladders, while two pushed battering rams topped by thick wooden beams.
“Archers!” cried an officer on the walls. “Draw!… Notch!… Loose!”
A volley of arrows came from the ramparts of the Dun Fort. They arched into the air, curled downward, and descended on the attackers. It was clear that they struck home, for men dropped sporadically across the formations, tumbling to the ground as screams of pain rose up.
“Draw!… Notch!… Loose!”
Another volley of arrows. This time, they were aimed downward, right at the men approaching the walls. The attack was even more deadly. Alyssa swallowed as many Byrch soldiers on the front lines tumbled over, arrows in their necks, torsos, and even eyes. She glanced over at her friend, and saw Laena staring impassively at the scene. The violet eyes were blank and void of emotion, shifting back and forth only to gaze upon more of the battlefield. Her long, silver hair trailed in isolated strands across her pale face.
“Draw!… Notch!… Loose!”
Arrows flew down as the Byrch men found the wall. The edge of the wall saw corpses pile up along the stone. Blood from gashed wounds painted the sides of the Dun Fort. Alyssa could see more arrows flying from the drum towers on the corners of the Dun Fort’s exterior. She swallowed hard and began to back away.
“Stay,” came a firm voice from Laena.
Alyssa froze in place. She didn’t even take another step back when the ladder was slammed against the side of the castle.
“Draw!… Notch!… Loose!”
As the whirl of arrows sounded from the ramparts, another officer shouted, “Ladders! Prepare yourselves!”
The two footmen beside Laena gripped their spears. As their hands tightened against the staffs, the taller one looked to the lankier one. “Lorys, if we lose our lives here, I just want you to know… I took your sister’s maidenhead.”
“Oye, ye
what?!”
A Byrch soldier popped over the ladder. A spear caught him in the throat, and he tumbled backward, spiraling to the ground below. The footman who had skewered him drew his short sword and cut down the next soldier who came up. More ladders were slammed against the wall, and more rebels were climbing upwards. Down below, the formations had become a great mass of armored enemies, preparing to mount the walls and overrun the defenders.
As rebel soldiers climbed up the ladders and fought their way against the defenders, Laena continued to stand stoically on the wall. Her violet eyes had lifted up now, gazing at the sky. Clouds had formed in the distance, shifting towards the scene. Their size cast a darkness over the land, and over the ocean itself as well. Alyssa looked about, seeing the combat going on about them, and did not know how Laena could stay so calm. This was not the place for two young girls, she knew that much. Most of the women were no doubt hiding away in the scullery or their rooms or the septry or wherever one went during such sieges. She tugged on the sleeve of her friend, trying to get the Lady of Duskendale away even as the cries of agony and terror rose up about them.
“Laena,” Alyssa said, “we must go.”
“We do not,” Laena murmured. She was still staring forward, towards the horizon.
“Why?”
“Because we will win the battle.”
“How do you know?”
Nearby, the taller footman was using his spear against the advancing besiegers. Every time one popped his head at the top of the ladder, he would stab the man in the face with his spear. After four times doing this, the footman chuckled and said, “This is easy!” At that time, a fifth rebel swung a mace over, knocking the spear towards the ground. In an instant, he was up and over the ramparts, ready to fight. That was when the lanky soldier came from the side and lifted his foot right into the enemy’s groin. The man coiled over, and was promptly smacked aside the head with the butt end of the lanky footman’s spear. He stumbled to the side, hit the edge of the rampart, and tumbled over the edge to his doom. “Thank you, Lorys.”
Suddenly, a great shout erupted over the field. It was low, deep, and loud. It was not the cry of a man, but the cry of a beast. Many soldiers, both the rebels and the loyalists, stopped all activity – even in mid-combat – to gaze around, trying to find the source off that noise. Alyssa could not blame them, for the cry had sent a chill up her spine.
Laena grinned. “Mother.”
Breaking through the clouds, riding atop a great, ugly dragon, was Lady Rhaena. She swung down, and as she neared the siege lines, her dragon opened its mouth. Flame burst forth, flying from the siege camp towards the wall. Men who were waiting to go up the ladders were caught between the attack and the wall. Screams rose up only to be silenced as men were incinerated. Rhaena rode her dragon over the walls of the Dun Fort and rose up to prepare another attack. The defenders lifted their weapons and cheered.
In the enemy ranks, panic broke. Men were fleeing from the walls, hoping to avoid the fate of their comrades who had perished in the previous attack. Men on the walls were confused, and lost the initiative. The number of attackers on the ramparts fell as they were cut down by the defenders. Ladders were tossed over. In the distance, the ranks of Rhaena’s armies appeared on the hillside, marching quickly onto the scene. Many of the knights or mounted warriors among the Byrch ranks quickly turned and fled from the scene. The footmen were not too far from them. Some of the slower ones were burned alive by Rhaena’s attacks. Others were taken by her soldiers as they swarmed through Duskendale and against the Dun Fort. As quickly as it had begun, the siege had turned into a route. By the end of the day, no Byrch banner remained standing, and there were no sounds of metal clashing and shields bashing… only the groans of the dying.
Laena was walking along the ramparts of her castle, gazing out at the siege lines. Smoke still rose up from the patches where Rhaena’s dragon had spewed forth its wrath. Her dainty feet stepped gently along the stone, casually side-stepping around those dead or wounded men not yet removed from the walls. Alyssa followed behind, still worried that, despite the turn of events, something might happen to her friend. She grimaced at the bloodied, often disfigured, men lying about the top of the wall. There were loyalists and rebels alike, and despite the designs on their tabards, they all bled the same color.
“Did I not tell you the Seven would prove faithful?” Laena asked.
Alyssa smiled nervously. “You did. And they were.”
Laena smiled and lifted her chin, her violet eyes gazing up at the dusk sky. “Praise you, Seven, for you have protected me and poured your wrath upon those who sought to destroy me...”
As evening fell, Rhaena returned to the Dun Fort, having pursued the enemy some distance. She stepped into the council chamber, where Laena had been placed to wait for her. The Targaryen woman was as Alyssa had always remembered her, before she left for the long campaign. She wore fine armor that clung to her feminine form, and her face was still as elegant as the most carefully crafted sculpture. One of her hands was covered with an iron glove, while the other was covered in leather. The leather-clad hand, Alyssa knew, had to be the fake one. The girl was aware that Rhaena had lost her hand long ago, due to an unfortunate accident with a dragon. What else there was to the story, Alyssa didn’t know.
“Hail, my lady,” Albar said, taking a bow. “What news do you bring?”
“The rebel dogs are fleeing with their tail between their legs. They will be running to Byrch Hall to lick their wounds, no doubt. I will pursue them on the morrow. In the meantime, my men need rest. We traveled far, and with quick speed, to reach here.”
“We feared you would be too occupied up north to come.”
“The rebels up north were easily defeated. As soon as I had word that the Byrch tart had sent her armies behind me, I of course did an about face.” Rhaena paused, and her purple eyes caught sight of her daughter, sitting on the throne. “Laena?”
Laena stood and clasped her hands together. She curtsied then. “Mother.”
“I heard you were on the wall. Were you in a dress?” Rhaen stepped towards her daughter, then stopped a foot from her. “That was dangerous. Did you not think about your welfare?”
“The Seven would protect me,” Laena murmured matter-of-factly. “Just as they have protected you, all these years.”
Rhaena narrowed her eyes. Then, to Alyssa’s surprise, she smiled. She held out her arms. At once, Laena rushed into her mother’s arms and hugged her tight. Mother returned the hug, her good hand brushing up and down her daughter’s spine. “It is so good to see you again, Laena,” she remarked. “So good...”
Alyssa grinned at the scene. Then her eyes wandered to the dark corner of the chamber, where Cousin Annara stood. She saw her cousin gazing at the two with beady eyes. She was gripping a chunk of her dress, and tugging at it tightly with her thick fingers. Her teeth were biting down on her lower lip, chewing and gnawing against it. The more she gazed at the mother and daughter, the more tightly she seemed to grip the fabric of her skirt.
