Daemon steps towards them "I hope your trip went well Princess" he said in a clear voice. Elia looked up and smiled realising who it was, she hobbled over and hugged Daemon, though he was careful not to put any pressure on her belly.
"My Lord Silver it is good to see you" she says formally to him which makes him chuckle, she had always insisted he call her Elia which he struggled to do so to her back at him she would call him 'Lord Silver' which was as pomp a name as he'd ever heard.
She looked around him and sighed "No Rhaegar?" She asked and he shook his head.
"Deep in his book I'm afraid, tried to convince me to stay with him" he said with a chuckle. Even though her husband had not come to meet her Elia was still happy Daemon had come, she wouldn't like the Red Keep or feel half as safe as she did if not for him so her smile never left her face. Ashara smiled too as she saw Daemon and decided to try to embarrass him slightly by kissing him on the cheek.
Used to her antics by now Daemon just smiled and shook his head "It's good to see you too Ashara"
"I do wish you could've come with us, it was incredibly boring, especially when this one spends her time eating," Ashara says with a humorous smile, Elia slaps her arm huffing indignantly.
"I am carrying a babe, I must eat enough for two people, not all of us can live off the meals of septa" Elia replied.
Ashara snorted "Two people? No, perhaps if you were carrying the next seven Kingsguard I'd believe it more"
Daemon while amused interrupted them, they weren't entirely safe here and so he wanted to get them back to the Red Keep "Come Princess, I brought you a gift though I'll only let you have it once we're in the wheelhouse" he teased, Elia narrowed her eyes at him and then the basket that he had in his arms.
Pretending to not be interested she holds her head up "Very well, let us retire to the wheelhouse, truth be told being on that boat made me ill" she says as she takes Daemon's offered arm, eying the basket he kept on the other side.
Ashara walked beside Elia stifling a giggle, she knew her friend well and only ever since she had gotten pregnant only promises of sweet foods could placate her.
The servants and guards all bowed when they approached the wheelhouse, Daemon went up first to help Elia up inside and then Ashara after, he then slapped the side of the wheelhouse to signify they were ready to go and closed the door. As he turned around he was set upon by Elia who grabbed the basket out of his hand and uncovered it.
Daemon chuckled as he saw her eyes light up at the lemon cakes and honey-sweetened milk, it was what she had craved ever since she had gotten with child, Ashara couldn't help but laugh as well as Elia ate the lemon cakes in a very unladylike manner as well as well as drinking from the pitcher, not even bothering to use a cup that he had provided.
"Mayhaps I should arrest the crew of the ship for daring to starve the Princess on her trip" Daemon states sarcastically, Ashara chuckles at his joke however Elia glares at him while taking another bite of the lemon cake.
Swallowing her food Elia looks at him with narrowed eyes "You should count your fortunes that I am the one carrying this child, had it been Ashara she would've had you waiting on her hand and foot until the baby had been born"
Daemon cracks a smile "So not too different than how she is now" he says with amusement, as he takes a seat opposite the girls.
"Please I am not so bad" Ashara says with a small pout.
Daemon raises his eyebrow "Sometimes I oft wonder which one of you is the Princess" he says jokingly however realises his mistake when both of them narrow their eyes in his direction, luckily for him the wheelhouse abruptly stops.
Daemon quickly stands "I'll go and check to see everything is well," he says before quickly walking outside and leaving before he gets assaulted by the angry Dornish women in the carriage.
Heading out he walks to the front of the wheelhouse "Is there a problem" he asks the coachmen.
The coachmen looks back at him "There seems to be an issue my lord the path has been blocked, the guards are removing the blockage now" he states respectfully.
Daemon frowned, he looked ahead and saw various carts and rubble that could've only been placed there. It couldn't have been a coincidence, the route that the princess was to take today was meticulously planned so something like this couldn't happen.
His ear twitched and he sighed 'So that's the way it is...' he thought to himself. He turned to the Kingsguard that had accompanied Elia on her trip, Oswell Whent, he had replaced Gwayne Gaunt after his death at Duskindale, he was a strong aura user though a bit hot-headed at times "Ser Oswell, it seems that we are about to have some company" he says to the Knight.
The knight scowls "It never ends, I swear to the gods once I find the man orchestrating this I will tear him limb from limb!" he said maliciously.
'A bit hot-headed...' Daemon thought to himself.
"Please stay with the carriage Lord Silver I will dispatch these cretins in a few moments" Oswell states with a frown as he unleashes his aura, it was impressive by an average user's standards, stronger than Brandon's had been when he faced them years ago. Oswell walked ahead of the carriage and signalled the guards to retreat to the carriage, he wanted to enjoy beating this fiend bloody, he wouldn't even give them the satisfaction of using his sword.
There was naut but silence on the road as Oswell stood there, his silver armour glistening in the sun and his white cloak blowing gently in the wind. Daemon had seen them before Oswell did but eventually, a few dozen men started to come out of various alleyways, some armed with swords others with small hatchets or knives. A shoddy ambush crew if he'd ever seen one, but the one who stood behind them in the centre was different, he held a large Warhammer, he was at least a foot taller than Daemon and was heavily muscled, the only expecting being his large fat belly.
However, it wasn't him who spoke it was a skinny frail-looking man at the front "G-Give u-us the p-p-princess or you'll d-d-die" he stutters out clearly afraid of the silver-clad Kingsguard in front of him.
Oswell laughs at the frail-looking man "Disperse now, or I'll be forced to consider you all traitors and summarily execute you all!" He shouts so all can hear.
No one moves nor do they say anything, Oswell smiles maliciously "So be it..."
As the first man charged, sword raised high in a futile attempt to strike down the Kingsguard, Oswell's aura surged around him. With a swift movement, his fist met the man's face, the impact a devastating collision that sent bone and flesh scattering in a gruesome spectacle. Blood splattered across Oswell's armour and face.
The charged atmosphere erupted into chaos as the rest of the men followed suit, a chaotic wave of desperation and anger. Yet Oswell remained an unyielding pillar amidst their onslaught. With each strike and swing they made, he deftly evaded his movements into a symphony of grace and precision. Their rusty weapons clashed against his unbreakable defence, a futile attempt to breach the aura that encased him.
One man lunged with a rusty sword in hand, his attack a sloppy and desperate manoeuvre. But Oswell's eyes gleamed with a mixture of amusement and cold determination. He channelled his aura with a deft motion, concentrating its power into his hand. As the sword made contact, it met an unseen force, and with a resounding crack, the blade snapped in two.
The man stumbled back, his weapon rendered useless, but there was no reprieve. In an instant, Oswell's leg swung out, a swift kick that collided with the man's chest. The impact was bone-crushing, a shockwave that caved in the fragile ribs and sent the man sprawling to the ground, life extinguished in an instant.
As the battle's chaos continued to unfold, one man managed to break through Oswell's defences, his hatchet striking true against the Kingsguard's arm, though it did no damage at all. Oswell's face contorted into a mask of cold fury, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it.
His aura flaring with fury, Oswell seized the man's arm with a grip that felt like iron. With a swift and brutal motion, he crushed the bone and sinew within, the man's agonizing screams echoing through the narrow street like a macabre symphony.
With a snarl of rage, Oswell yanked the man forward, using his grip to propel him straight into his waiting fist. The impact was earth-shattering, a collision of flesh and bone that sent shockwaves of horror through the hearts of those who bore witness. The man's body crumpled upon impact, Oswell's fist having torn through him as though he were made of paper.
The chilling display of power left the remaining assailants paralyzed with fear. The once fervent cries of rebellion had transformed into gasps of terror, their resolve crumbling before the overwhelming might of the Kingsguard's aura-infused strength.
Oswell's laughter echoed through the chaotic scene, a chilling counterpoint to the desperate cries of the ill-prepared men who stood before him. His aura flared with an almost supernatural intensity, a testament to the power he wielded as a member of the Kingsguard. With each swing of his fists, his foes fell before him like leaves in a storm, their feeble attempts at resistance shattered by his overwhelming might.
As his battle rage surged, Oswell's instincts sent a warning through his senses, a fleeting sense of impending danger that flickered too late. The realization hit him like a lightning bolt, but before he could react, a tremendous impact struck him from behind. The force was immense, a collision that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through his body.
The collision launched him forward, his powerful form hurtling through the air until he collided with a nearby building. The impact was jarring, the building's structure quivering as he crashed into it, leaving a visible dent in the stone facade. The breath was knocked from his lungs, his vision momentarily swimming as he fought to regain his bearings.
Struggling to his feet, Oswell's eyes narrowed as he turned his attention to his new adversary. The man who had struck him was unlike the others – his massive frame and bulging muscles spoke of raw power, while the aura that surrounded him was a clear indicator of his abilities as an aura user.
Daemon could've warned Oswell about the man, he had used 'Suppression' to sneak up on the Kingsguard before launching a surprise attack, however, he thought the knight could use some humbling. It was unlikely the man could beat Oswell anyway very few aura users could challenge a Kingsguard.
"A good hit, though if the only good hit you make is while my back is turned I fear this fight may be boring" Oswell states as he stands up rolling his shoulders.
The large man looks at him with a wild grin "I like you... Ben will make you his" he says as he licks his lips with a thick dark pink tongue.
Oswell looks at him with disgust as he flares his aura once more, he doesn't draw his sword yet not feeling the need to, this makes Daemon sigh as he's acting too cocky while he's supposed to be guarding the princess.
Oswell's charge was swift and decisive, his aura blazing around him as he closed the distance between himself and the man who called himself Ben. His fist pulled back, a coiled spring of force and determination, ready to unleash a devastating blow upon his opponent.
As his fist hurtled forward, it was met by the impact of Ben's Warhammer, a clash of power that sent shockwaves through the air. The two auras collided, their energies mingling in a volatile dance of strength and resistance. The force of the collision sent vibrations through Oswell's arm, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Ben's own aura flared in response, a fierce and hungry light that danced in his eyes. His lips curled into a chilling smile, his emotions a twisted tangle of rage, desire, and fear. The clash of their auras was a testament to the formidable power each possessed, a silent promise of the battle that raged beneath the surface.
With a surge of strength, Ben pushed Oswell back, the force of his aura-infused strike proving to be a formidable defence. Oswell stumbled slightly, the impact reverberating through his body. But he wasn't deterred. His own aura responded in kind, his determination a solid foundation as he squared his shoulders and met Ben's gaze.
Seizing the moment, Oswell unleashed another powerful punch, the impact landing squarely on Ben's belly. The force of the blow was undeniable, causing Ben to stagger and sputter as the wind was knocked from his lungs. The conflicting emotions that flickered across Ben's face only fueled Oswell's resolve, his own aura blazing with intensity.
But Ben was far from defeated. His enraged and determined expression only grew more pronounced, and with a sudden charge, he swung his aura-infused hammer at the ground. The impact shattered the road beneath them, sending debris flying as Oswell narrowly dodged the attack. Despite evading the direct hit, the force of the hammer's strike still sent shockwaves through the ground, knocking Oswell off his feet.
The unexpected sight of the large man soaring through the air took Oswell by surprise, his eyes widening in a split second of realization. With swift instinct, he rolled to the side just in time to avoid the impact that would have surely crushed him. The ground trembled as Ben's landing shattered the road beneath him, a testament to the sheer force he commanded.
Before Oswell could fully recover his bearings, Ben surged forward once more, his massive form barreling into Oswell with the weight of a battering ram. The impact sent Oswell crashing into a wall, his body protesting against the force. Pain lanced through his back as the collision reverberated through him, momentarily leaving him dazed and disoriented.
But Ben wasn't finished. In a show of incredible strength, he seized Oswell and hurled him toward another building, the impact of his body slamming into the structure leaving an echoing thud. Oswell grunted, his body protesting against the brutal treatment it had endured. Gritting his teeth, he fought through the pain, his resolve and determination rising even as his body bore the marks of the battle.
Rising to his feet, legs slightly shaky from the onslaught, Oswell's eyes burned with pure fury. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rush of adrenaline fueling his every movement. His pride had been wounded, and he was not one to back down from a fight.
With a swift motion, he withdrew his steel sword, its gleaming edge catching the light. Oswell's aura surged around him once again, enveloping the sword in a protective shroud.
While this was happening the rest of the ambusher had the idea to attack the carriage as they still outnumbered the men guarding it. They approached with their weapons raised, Daemon who was leaning by the door to the wheelhouse looked at them with a sigh before unleashing his aura and infusing it with his malice, he was careful not to direct it towards his allies behind him nor Elia and Ashara, the ambushers stopped their approach almost immediately looking at Daemon as if he were the stranger come to take them.
However much to Daemon's surprise they tried to push through 'These aren't common street thugs, nor are they sell swords... they look like common farmers' he thought to himself as he inspected them. He wondered what situation they must be in if they were so desperate to attack the princess. Daemon had assumed that after Oswell crushed the first few men they'd all go running but they didn't, though they certainly looked as if they wanted to.
Daemon watched as the braver men pushed themselves further and further almost reaching the horses before they fell to the floor unable to continue. He didn't want to kill them, they looked half dead already but he wouldn't allow a single one to make it towards the carriage. Daemon once again found himself glad he had learned this high-level Aura technique, only those who have good control as well as a large reserve of aura can do it. Daemon looked back towards the fight between Ser Oswell and Ben, 'He would've finished by now if he hadn't been so cocky' Daemon thought to himself.
Oswell's muscles tensed as he charged towards Ben, his sword raised high and ready for combat. The clash was imminent, and the air was charged with tension. As they met in a clash of steel and force, the sound of their weapons colliding echoed through the surroundings.
With a powerful swing, Oswell's sword arced through the air towards Ben. The handle of Ben's Warhammer rose to meet the blade, the impact sending reverberations through both their arms. Despite the force, Oswell's resolve shone through, and he pushed forward with unyielding determination.
Ben, equally strong and unwavering, used the handle of his Warhammer to forcefully push Oswell back. The sudden movement caught Oswell off guard, causing him to stumble a few steps as he struggled to regain his balance. Seizing the opportunity, Ben swung his Warhammer downwards with the intention of crushing Oswell beneath its weight.
But Oswell's response was unexpected, a testament to his skill and experience. Instead of evading, he held his ground. He raised his sword with unwavering confidence, the blade positioned to intercept the Warhammer trajectory. In a stunning display, he managed to swipe the warhammer aside, sending it crashing into the ground beside him.
Ben's surprise was evident in his eyes, and Oswell wasted no time capitalizing on the opening he had created. His sword became a deadly extension of his will as he thrust it forward with remarkable accuracy. The blade found its mark, piercing through Ben's shoulder with a sickening squelch.
A primal howl of pain erupted from Ben's lips as the sharp agony radiated through his body. His grip on the Warhammer slackened as he staggered back, clutching at the wound. Oswell maintained his focus, his eyes locked onto his opponent.
Even Daemon would have trouble blocking such a direct blow especially when the opponent was near equal in raw aura. However Oswell was different, he was a man who loved to fight and so he fashioned his ability to complement his nature.
'Perfect Counter'
(AN: A bit of a Long chapter, well tbf the original chapter I posted here was 12k words, but people don't seem to appreciate that 🥲. Anyway if you haven't guessed who these people are then idk… shame.)
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