A Soldier Adrift: Captain Westeros

Steve munched on an apple as he read Robin's homework, Brooklyn plodding along beneath him. Empty fields stretched out on either side of the well-traveled road, and there were no clouds that day, but the marching army was shadowed all the same as the faint haze above persisted. Even after a week, it was still the biggest concern to the men, and Steve had been catching snippets of low conversation all morning between the soldiers who were marching south along the Kingsroad beside him, bantering and wondering what the cause might have been. The most popular theory was that Aerys had caused a second Summerhall (some kind of fiery disaster brought on by hubris as far as Steve could tell), only this time in King's Landing, but there were some who still held that the Martell scion had turned on the prince for his insult to his sister, or that the prince was burning fields to slow their pursuit, though after a week with no burnt camps or fields seen these ones were jeered at.

One stubborn old goat insisted that the Kingswood had been set ablaze in a ritual to summon a foul Valyrian champion capable of standing against the white star lord, but a forest like that wasn't going to burn quickly or widely enough to cover the sky in a haze such as covered the sky. Whatever the truth was, they would surely find out soon, as they grew closer and closer to the capital.

Movement on the side of the road ahead caught his eye, approaching riders, and Steve rolled up the parchment he was reading, tucking it away in a saddlebag. He was satisfied with Robin's defence of his choices in the scenario he'd been given; he would have to spend an afternoon coming up with something more challenging.

The small party of riders slowed as they reached Steve, before turning themselves around to join him as he rode beside the columns of infantry. "Steve," their leader greeted him.

"Ned," Steve replied. The kid had been busy on the march, acting as the rudder that kept the army moving in the right direction in the right way. The last time he had seen him had been days ago, when they had put their bows, steel and goldenheart, to good use taking out an ambush meant to kill their scouts and slow their pursuit. "What brings you here?"

"We will pass Hayford today," Ned said. His dark brown hair was starting to grow long, hanging below his ears, though he was clean shaven. "If we do not slow to take it, we will be within a day of King's Landing tomorrow." Those with him were familiar faces, but there was a respectful distance now that hadn't been there before the battle.

"Do we need to take it?" Steve asked. He made a point to give the others a nod, Kyle Royce and Mark Ryswell amongst them.

"Perhaps," Ned said. "I would like to threaten Lord Hayford with you." A bird of prey eyed them imperiously from a branch on a lone tree by the road.

"Sure," Steve said. "I told them I'd drop my grudge against them, but this isn't that."

Ned gave a nod of thanks, letting out a breath. "One less obstacle."

"Does this give us a chance of catching up to Rhaegar?" Steve asked. "Before he reaches the city."

A grimace answered. "No. The fatigue of the first days cost us."

"A siege, then."

"So it would seem. Much will depend on the choices the foe makes."

Steve had been taking advantage of the wealth of knights and lords on hand who had been taught of war and siegecraft since childhood, asking questions and learning all he could about how such things were done in Westeros. There were many who had been more than eager to answer him.

"You don't think he'll turn and fight?" Steve asked, as Brooklyn stepped over a head sized rock on the edge of the road.

"Before he passed Hayford, I thought he might," Ned said. "But that was the last advantageous point until the city." He glanced over to the column of men they were riding beside, but none were close enough to overhear, and the men riding behind him were all close friends. "I suspect he means to bait us into preparing to deliver a siege, and then hit us in the rear with the forces he only pretended to take into the city."

Steve looked over at him. "You don't think he wants a siege."

"I don't think they're prepared for one. A wise man would have begun stockpiling grain as soon as the war began in case of a siege, but the Targaryens have not proven to be wise men. King's Landing has an enormous appetite even without all of Rhaegar's men."

From what Steve had seen of Aerys, he didn't think he'd be the sort to even consider a worst case scenario, let alone prepare for it. Execute the man who suggested it, maybe. "Better for everyone if it doesn't come to a siege, anyway," he said. The people would be the first to starve, and if the walls were taken by force, there would be no stopping the riot that would follow. "You're prepared to prevent a sack once we defeat them in the field." It was an expectation, not a hope.

Ned coughed. "Yes."

"Word has spread well on your view of such things, Ser Steve," Kyle said from the side. His pale eyes were earnest. "Were we to fight within the walls, I would have concerns, but it would be a very foolish man who decides to pursue such a thing deliberately."

Steve grimaced. "There's never a shortage of fools." Seeing the state of the few villages they had come across hadn't done much for his good mood.

"I think many will surprise you, Steve," Ned said.

"Maybe," he said, thinking about what he had seen and corrected in one village during their escort of Lyanna, ensuring it would not happen again even if he had been too late for the victim. But then he thought of how his fame had grown since rejoining the rebels, of how he had heard men speaking with admiration of those he had helped and spared. "Maybe," he said again, more upbeat.

Ned didn't linger long, riding off with his companions to see to the dozens and dozens of tasks that needed attention and came with directing an army, each raising an arm or a visor as they went. Steve returned the gestures, and then considered what to do next. Morning was only half gone, and he had few duties that needed further attention that day.

Battle was looming, one way or another, and Steve turned his attention to his people. He caught up with Robin as he rode with a pack of fellow squires and answered awed questions about the rescue of Lyanna Stark. He checked in on Henry and Yorick as they rode in a screening patrol off the road and gave them lip about their latest loss to him in the sparring circle, and the push ups they all owed him. He found Betty and her girls riding in a wagon and was teasingly asked how many castles he'd taken for Naerys recently. He was tracked down by Lyanna, Hood not Stark, and wheedled into one last lesson with the Myrish crossbow he'd gifted her.

In the evening, he cornered - or was cornered by - Naerys in their tent, and they didn't emerge until they were both in dire need of a bath. By the time they fell asleep in each other's arms, they were sated, content, and accepting of what they thought was coming the next day.

X

The message came early in the morning, when the army was still breaking camp. A hurried servant was the one to summon Steve to the emergency meeting it spurred on, and a terrible fear came over him that maybe the rumours of King's Landing burning had been found to be true, but he pushed it down, focusing on the moment. When he arrived, he was met by faces grim, eager, concerned, and wary, but not shell shocked. Whatever news had come, it was no simple thing, but nor was it a tragedy. Steve wasn't the last to arrive, Elbert ducking into the large tent right behind him, and they quickly joined the other rebel leaders around the table. All of them were armed.

"Lannister forces have come," Hoster told them in answer to their unspoken question, his brows deeply furrowed. Half his attention was on the map of the city that was spread across the table. "I have two reports from my brother's men. One claims they were seen approaching on the Goldroad escorted by Crownlands banners, the other that they had attacked the city and have taken the Lion Gate."

"Could one be wrong?" Elbert asked, taking a spot next to Brandon. The Stark was drumming his fingers on the sword hilt at his hip.

Hoster shook his head. "No."

"They certainly reported what they saw truthfully," Jon added, looking up from the map. "The truth behind what was seen is less certain."

"Not my brother's men," Hoster insisted. "If they saw fighting on the walls of King's Landing, there was fighting."

"You think it could be a trap," Steve said to Jon. He looked from Ned to Robert where they stood shoulder to shoulder, frowning in thought and glowering respectively.

"Tywin is a cunning lord," Jon said. "I would not put it beyond him to stage a true skirmish to draw us in."

"He also holds grudges," Hoster said. "Aerys gave him many to nurse. It would take much to have him side with the Targaryens."

"Yet he marched beside royalists."

"What's more likely," Steve asked, "that Lannister approached the city as a friend and then turned on the Targaryens, or that they're putting on a show to make us charge in?" He thought about Jaime, a hostage in all but name on the Kingsguard. He didn't know the kid's father beyond a brief impression as a stern and hard man, but he didn't seem like a man to let such a thing go.

Hoster and Jon shared a look, clearly in agreement about something.

"Approaching under cover of friendship is not beyond him," Hoster said.

"Aye," Jon said. "Had the turn come when we were in sight of the walls, I would accept it easily. This early, however…"

"Does it matter?" Robert demanded. His arms were folded over his chest, and his shoulders were tense with suppressed action. "We march. We fight. We win. If Lannister wants to get on our good side with some skin in the fight, let him. If not, we crush the lions too."

"Fifteen thousand Westerlands men says it matters," Brandon said, voice dry.

"Bah," Robert said. "We can take them."

"Lannister seeks to give us King's Landing," Ned said abruptly, "but something gave him away."

"Ned?" Jon asked.

The Cold Wolf looked up. "Assaulting the city with fifteen thousand men makes little sense given the force Rhaegar has. Nor does playing at conflict to draw us in, not when he could have waited a day away on the Goldroad when we were already coming to deliver a siege. Lannister had a plan, and something went wrong."

"If your judgement of Rhaegar's plan was correct, then seeking to get his men into the city would have been suspicious of Lannister," Elbert said, nodding slowly.

Robert slapped one heavy hand on his thigh. "Then the lion has come down from his rock and won't have sat the war out, what does it matter."

Jon's attention turned to his foster son. "Because if the final victory in this war is given to you, you will begin your reign thanks to the strength of another, and that is not something that lasting dynasties do."

Robert seemed to swell. "I broke an army on the Blueburn, another at Mastford, helped shatter a third below the God's Eye, we routed Hightower, threw back more than twice our number in knights-"

"And if Tywin Lannister gives you your throne, that is what the histories will remember," Jon said, his voice rising over Robert's.

There was quiet for a moment.

"You will also be stuck with whatever victory Lannister gives you," Elbert said, fair features grim. "The Rains of Castamere are known for a reason. I would not want to have Targaryen blood should he breach the Red Keep."

Grimaces of agreement answered him, but there was one who reacted differently.

"What's this?" Steve asked. He had been leaning over the table, inspecting the map, but now he straightened.

There was a pause.

"House Reyne rebelled against House Lannister," Brandon said. Distaste coloured his face. "Tywin penned them up in their mines and diverted a river to flood them. Hundreds of men, women, and children were drowned."

"And this is the man who has just sent an army into a city to fight."

"Aye," Hoster said.

Steve's jaw clenched. He breathed slowly, knowing there was no point in pointing out the injustice in allowing a man like that to continue to rule.

"His son is in the Keep," Jon said suddenly. "It will be a priority for him."

Ned swore in another language, almost before Jon had finished speaking, startling his brother. "Elia Martell. We need her and her children alive. If they are still in the Keep when Lannister takes it…"

"They would have been sent away to Dragonstone, surely," Elbert argued.

Brandon was disagreeing. "Aerys would keep them close, he is not-"

"We don't know that-"

"After what Rhaegar pulled with the marriage cloaks-"

"Even Lannister knows that they are more valu-"

"Enough!" Robert said, cutting through the building argument and silencing them all. He looked to his friend. "Ned. We need Martell alive?"

Ned hesitated, but only for a scant moment, and then he nodded.

"Then let it be known that I want Rhaegar's wife and children alive and unspoiled," Robert said, turning to Jon. When the older man nodded, Robert lost some of his seriousness. "I won't have Ned banished from his wife's bed for not preventing the death of her lady."

"Robert."

"I'm onto you, Ned!" Robert said, wagging a finger at him, a grin starting to steal over his face.

"The fate of a rival claimant must be your decision, not -" Ned stopped himself, closing his eyes briefly. "Yes, Robert."

"Good," Robert said, clapping his hands together. "Then we need to get to King's Landing before Tywin bloody Lannister can take it, capture Rhaegar for Rickard to deal with, punt the donkey off my throne, and make sure Martell and her tykes don't have an accident in the process. Did I miss anything?"

Jon and Ned shared a sigh of long suffering. "We are still at least eight hours from King's Landing," the Vale lord said.

"Ah. Right," Robert said, frowning.

Steve unclenched his jaw and leaned in. "The army is eight hours away. A mounted force isn't."

"By the time you arrive, every gate will be locked tight," Brandon said. There was no point in entertaining the thought that anyone but Steve would be leading such a force.

"I will open the way," Steve said. He had seen the gates of the city, passed through them more than once. He knew how to take them.

"Lor- Steve," Hoster started. He watched him for a moment. "You have achieved much. Your quality is not in doubt…but a city under siege, with fighting in the streets…it is a very different beast."

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"I can get through the city to the Red Keep," Steve said. He tapped on the map, at a gate on the eastern side of the city. "The scouts said that Lannister forces had taken the Lion Gate. They should know they don't outnumber the royalists, so they ought to have taken a defensive posture, using the walls and the gatehouse. I'll enter through the Gate of the Gods or the Old Gate, avoid the worst of the fighting."

"And what will happen when you find evil men taking advantage of the fighting?" Hoster asked, watching him carefully. "It won't just be the soldiers. Will you continue on, or stop and help their victims?"

"I will help them," Steve said without hesitation. "Or those with me will."

"A sack is not a battle," Jon warned him now. "It is a riot where men lose sight of their allegiances and even the greatest of knights can drown under the tide of numbers. You will make yourself a target."

"I will help them," Steve repeated. "Then I'll get into the Red Keep, and take Elia and her children into protective custody."

"He says he can do it. He can do it," Robert said.

Hoster grimaced, and Jon tried once more. "Robert, a sack is like nothing you've-"

"Twice now I've fought with Steve in the worst of it," Robert said. "I know what he is capable of. I wouldn't bet on myself in a mess like the city will be, but I'd bet on Steve."

Robert's admission had Jon taken aback.

"He'll do this, and when we get to the city and crush all who stand against us, we'll have the Princess to bring Dorne to heel," Robert continued. "And that'll be that."

"Well, you heard the king," Brandon said, almost carelessly. "That'll be that."

Elbert couldn't help but laugh, even as his uncle and Hoster shared a look. The meeting quickly began to break up, Brandon striding out to see to his men as Jon and Hoster began a low and fast conversation about positioning Robert as a saviour to the people, but Steve paid them little attention. He approached the man who would be king, and spoke quietly to him as Elbert and Ned lingered by the door.

"When I do this, their well being will become my responsibility," Steve said. There was no threat in his voice, but there was a warning all the same.

Robert eyed him for a moment, but didn't back down or take umbrage. "If my rule must fear a child, I'm not fit to wear the crown," he said, just as quietly.

The soldier clasped the stormlord on the shoulder and gave a single squeeze of approval. Then he left the tent behind, off to gather his people and prepare them for what was to come.

The day would not be an easy one.

X

Word spread swiftly through the army, and by the time Steve was riding out, all they passed seemed to know where they were going. The white star lord rode at the head of his own retinue, a force that was said to be made up of the most dangerous men in the army, men who had cut their way across the Reach alone and who had been granted Valyrian steel for their service. With them rode men said to be the Queen's own knights, sent by the Wolf Queen to spill Targaryen blood for the insult Rhaegar had paid her in thinking he could woo her from her true love, the King. Spears beat against shields, metal rang against metal, and horns rose above it all, until the entire army was sounding their support for those who would ride ahead to fight the foe, so great was their fury and so righteous their cause.

The old hands, smarter or wiser or just more experienced, knew better than to believe the gossip, but they found it an impressive sight all the same, and they prayed to the Warrior or the nameless gods of rock and field to speed them on their way. The sooner the man they knew as Lord America made it to the battle, the fewer enemies there would be for them to fight, and that was just fine by them.

X x X