Bastards and Broken Things (House Blackfyre AAR)

Sorry for some of the wonkiness with the text -- I think it's a bug in the software of the website, as everything shows up correctly from the editor end.

Also, I made Aegon and Aemon friends, while I made Daemon the Younger rivals with both of his elder brothers, per canon saying that Aegon and Aemon were "wretched bullies." Also console-added some child lersonality traits for lore reasons. Hope y'all don't mind!

Please continue this aar its really good.

Thanks! I'm planning on uploading 2-3 more chapters tomorrow -- I've been writing and editing them all last week in between studies and my other hobies (reading, coding, guitar, etc.)

Chapter 3: The Redgrass Field

Aegor Bittersteel #1:



Aegor surveyed the bodies with a grimace. Lord Stokeworth, Daeron II's Hand (the Bastard King had replaced Lord Butterwell with Stokeworth shortly after Daemon's escape), had been leading a group of men south through the capital, the last great bastion of Crownland forces under Targaryen command. Stokeworth had made the foolhardy decision to pass his soldiers by a nominally loyalist castle that had turned cloak to Daemon. When Bittersteel and Daemon fell on the Hand, there were massive numbers of casualties... for the Targaryens. Trapped between a rock in Drakescastle and a hammer (in Daemon), the royalists lost nigh over half their predicted forces before Stokeworth sounded the retreat.



What a waste, Bittersteel thought to himself as he surveyed the carnage. Before him was a man wearing Targaryen colors mixed with those of some minor knightly house. How well these knights might have served me... no, Daemon, Aegor thought. Though he held little regard for human life, outside his own, Bittersteel could see the value in having the good men who died under Daeron on his side in the future.


Daena the Defiant #1:



Daena sat in her chambers at the Darkfort, the holding of her son prior to the rebellion. With the main Targaryen thrusts cleared out, the castle had become safe for members of Daemon's family once more. She had had her grandchildren, as well as Queen Rohanne of Tyrosh brought back from their safe-hold in the Hightower to accompany her.



Daena had disliked her daughter-in-law from the start. Rohanne was willful, but lazy, and lacked the drive to be a good queen. At the very least, the bitch Daenerys would have been of the right blood and shy stature to be her son's consort. Daemon had refused to hear anything of putting the girl aside, however. Daena knew Daemon shared her distaste for Rohanne, but he refused to dishonor his name or his wife and children through divorce. "Besides," Daemon had said. "Daenerys is married with kids of her own."

Dornish bastards. The world could use a few less of those anyway, Daena had reasoned, but Daemon had sent her away. My son lacks the stomach to do what has to be done.

At this moment, Queen Rohanne walked in. Behind her was a wetnurse, holding her most recent child, Princess Merela, in her arms. The slothful whore had refused to nurse her own children!




Beside Rohanne, was her son Aerion, to the right, and Aerys, to the left. They were young, barely able to walk, and only recently weaned.






The boys were within a year of each other. The Maesters in King's Landing had said they were "the most robust little lads ever born of the Targaryen line, save perhaps their father." Daena had to admit, they did look strong for their age. Luckily, most of her line had taken after her, she noted proudly. Her son... he was like her brother...

She sighed, pushing things that could have been from her mind.

"Lady Rohanne, glad to see you've finally decided to join me. I only summoned you hours ago."

Rohanne stared back, indignantly. "May I remind you, I am the queen, you are the Queen Mother!"

"I birthed the king, and he is mine to do with as I please!" Daena was in Rohanne's face now, screaming in anger. How could this Tyroshi whore not see her obvious superiority? Her right to her son!

"AND I FUCKED THE KING, so I think he's more inclined to listen to me over his bitter mother who talks of whores and yet birthed a bastard and a half!"

At that, Daena slapped Rohanne. The nerve of the girl, talking of my miscarriage!

A man barged in. "Your graces..." he noticed the angry stares back and forth between the two women. The atmosphere was tense, and Aerion started crying.

Finally, after what felt like the longest moment, Rohanne broke the staring contest. "She's not worth the effort," Rohanne said, looking briefly back to Daena. "What's wrong?"

This had better be damned good, Daena thought, as it saved that cunt from my wrath!

The man led the Queen and the Queen Mother out onto the balcony of the castle. Before the walls, was encamped a massive Targaryen host flying the red dragon banners mixed with the falcon banners of the Vale.

Lord Donnel Arryn, had arrived in the field.

Aegor Bittersteel #2:



Aegor sat beside Daemon, Fireball, Redtusk, and Ser Reyne. This is the end, he thought. The loyalists can't afford any more losses. Win this, and win the throne.

The wide fields extended in all directions around the Darkfort, broken by a small village called Carpenter's Town. Fireball and Baratheon led a contingent of knights against the Arryn host before them, while Daemon and himself, complemented by Reyne and Crakehall, led the rest of the Blackfyre host against Lord Arryn's main camp in the Carpenter Town.



Bittersteel looked to his left as he was riding ahead of a column of knights and infantrymen. "Keep up Princess, prove yourself a man in battle!" Daemon the Younger, Bittersteel's squire, tried to keep up, but his horse refused to go any faster, so Bittersteel left him in the dust. Mayhaps an archer will kill the twat before the battle ends... Aegor pulled himself out of his fantasy. Not now. Now, we have a battle to win. And, with any luck, a raven to kill.


The Redgrass



The column led by Bittersteel swung to the northwest, while the column led by Fireball and Baratheon swung straight for the Targaryen siege lines around the castle. Daemon led a flanking maneuver around the town, while Bittersteel kept the Targaryen forces occupied to the south of Daemon's position.

After much bloodshed on both sides, the gates to the castle opened...

Daena the Defiant #2



Daena sat on her stallion, with her knights behind her. The Tyroshi's knees had buckled at the thought of combat! An unworthy queen! The strength of her grandchildren certainly came from Daena, rather than their ill-bred whore of a mother! The gates slowly opened. The sound of men dying, of injured horses whining suddenly boomed into her face. Nothing's like it, she thought with a smile. She hadn't fought since Daeron took her on that tour of Dorne and she had saved him from an assassin. They would have never killed him had I not been there.

Daena stormed out, leading her column of knights into the fray. First one, then another Targaryen soldier fell, unaware of the Blackfyre forces sortying behind them. A hundred infantrymen, the majority of the garrison, ran out and into the siege trenches, stabbing the Targaryen men in their exposed backs, and sending their forces into disarray, routing them.

As Daena sortied into the Targaryen lines, and their center flank collapsed, Daemon's force in the north destroyed the Targaryen forces, with Aegor's thrust absorbing most of the Targaryen resistance in the fields of Carpenter Town and preventing them from mounting a credible defense against Daemon.

Aegor Bittersteel #3

Aegor swung high, but was blocked by the mysterious knight sporting Targaryen colors and black armor. The knight pressed into Aegor's defense, pushing the bitter knight back step by step. Fucker's good.

The battle raged all around them, with this being his third charge into the Targaryen lines. His third bloody charge. Finally, the knight go the better of him and disarmed Bittersteel.

"Time to die, traitor," the mystery knight said, raising his sword to strike the deathly blow. However, the sword dropped from the knight's hand, beside Aegor. Both Bittersteel and the knight shifted their gaze to the knight's stomach... a sword protruded from it, wedged upwards in between a damaged gap in the armor. The knight fell from his knees, gargling blood. Behind the mystery knight, stood Daemon the Younger.

Donnel Arryn



Donnel continued to kill the endless wave of Blackfyre men pushing against his position. After a while, he seemed to forget himself in the fighting. It had degenerated from an ordered and tactical combat into a mob of death. Everything had gone to hell!

"LORD ARRYN," a man shouted behind him, mounted on a black horse with black dragon wings for ears. "Face me."




"You intend to cut me down from your steed," Arryn shouted at Blackfyre. "How honorable," he mocked.

Daemon flinched, and dismounted. "No, Lord Arryn, I don't need a horse to defeat you. Call your armies off, order a surrender, and mayhaps the day might yet end well for you.

"Traitors and bastards," Arryn responded, anger welling up in him as the men he had been charged to protect and defend died under Blackfyre swords. "The lot of you." Lord Arryn paced back and forth now, his falcon helm shining in the midday sun, screams of pain and death in the background fading into silence as he prepared for combat.

"As it may be," Daemon responded, drawing Blackfyre. "So it is."

And with that, the combat began. Blades flashed, as Daemon and Donnel parried each other. Neither man was incompetent, but The Black Dragon was soon shown to be the better. Arryn's blade was dulling, bending, with every collision with Blackfyre. His arms rang with each defense. Finally, his blade shattered.



SHIT!

Donnel dodged, barely saving himself from being cut in two. The falcon helm flew off with the force of the fall, but now lying weaponless before Daemon.



Donnel quickly scanned the surroundings, before spotting his saving grace -- a sword from a fallen bannerman of his.

He lunged for it, only to feel a sharp spike of pain shoot up his leg as Daemon laid the blunt end of Blackfyre on Arryn's ankle with the force of a great beast. Arryn shouted into the air, his scream drowned out in the sounds of his men dying. Part of the blade dug into his calve as Daemon applied more force. "YIELD!"



"So that you may throw me in a cell, bastard king?"



Arryn's voice possessed a ring of despair, shamed by his defeat at the hands of a bastard. Daemon sheathed Blackfyre.

"Let us end this bloodshed, my lord. Bend the knee and order your remaining men to surrender. Fulfill your role as Protector of the Vale and protect it from more blood and fire... and I shall confirm you in it."

"And my cell," Arryn responded.

"Shall be appropriate to your rank. You have my word, on my honor as a knight." Daemon reached his hand out, offering to pull Arryn to his feet.

"On the honor of a bastard," Arryn said, taking Daemon's hand.