After Arabella cast the spell, the sky immediately darkened. Troops on both sides stopped their fighting to look at this sudden meteorological phenomenon. No more arrows flew towards the walls, nor from it. No more boulders were launched by the catapults. The men who were rushing the castle with battering rams and siege ladders stopped in their tracks.
All because of what they saw in the sky.
The dark grey clouds began to take the eerie shape of a gigantic skull. Green flames burned through the skull, giving many the idea that the skull was bathed in wildfire. At that point, most of the soldiers had lost all will to fight. To some of the most devout followers of the Seven, it even looked like the Stranger himself had shown up to witness the battle.
However, when the skull opened its mouth and an enormous snake came out of it, the mass rout started. All across the battlefield and the Westerlander camp, men ran in all directions. Some shouted, others dropped their weapons and a few were so terrified they peed or shat themselves. In mere minutes, the disciplined and well-organized army of the Westerlands was in absolute disarray.
Tywin looked at it all with shock, anger and, although he'd never admit it, fear. At first he thought that would be his end. That thing would descend onto the ground and would devour him and his army whole. The snake, however, had stopped in the sky, making no move towards the ground and neither did the skull. Did the witch tell it to stop? That wouldn't make much sense. Why let this chance slip? She could end the war right here and instead she is letting us leave? This made the Old Lion believe it wasn't as deadly as it seemed. An illusion perhaps?
Not that it mattered. His soldiers believed the threat was real and they ran for their lives anyways. Now, the only thing he could do was to try his best to reorganize this chaos into a somewhat orderly retreat. And, to be honest, even the Lord of Casterly Rock didn't want to stick around to know if his hypothesis of it being an illusion had merit or not.
He barked some orders to his attendants and closer officers and together with the other Lords, he was able to gather two thirds of his forces into something resembling a cohesive force. The other third was scattered and shattered and they'd have to find their own way back to the Westerlands.
Tywin knew, however, that most wouldn't. Out of this remaining third, the largest group was made out of mercenaries, who now would either run as far away from Westeros as possible or would turn cloak to the enemy. As for his own soldiers, it would be a great stroke of luck if they came back. What would probably happen is that they'd either be killed off by the mercenaries to appease the enemy, captured or turn into brigands.
It was a heavy blow to their morale, yes, but both Tywin and Tyrion, as well as many of the other Lords understood that this didn't mean the war was lost. They still had most of their forces with them, not to mention that half of the full Westerlander army wasn't even there to witness this disaster, being too occupied with Riverrun. Some resistance could still be made, but it was clear that the Crownlands front was lost for now and that line would need to be fought defensively.
Without any words and a gloomy weight hanging over them, the Lannisters and their vassals made their retreat to Hornvale.
The morale in the walls of Pinkmaiden was a stark contrast to the one of the Lannisters. Men cheered and hugged each other, happy to be alive one more day. They constantly looked towards the sky, in awe of the skull and snake, and with a healthy dosage of fear, too.
The Dark Mark, or the Slytherin Herald as the Westerosi would start calling it from that moment onwards, stayed in the sky for a few more minutes before it dissipated. During this time, many people, from Lords to servants passed by Arabella and Arya to pay their respects, praise and show their gratitude.
Both Witches smiled at each person that came to talk to them and Arabella did her best to answer their praise with a praise of her own. At first, Arya didn't understand why she was doing it, but once she explained, the Stark girl started doing the same, bringing forth all that she had learned in her etiquette lessons.
After all, even if their spells had been the difference between victory and death in this battle, everyone contributed their small part into making this victory possible and, when recognized, they'd not only be happy, but also more loyal. Arabella knew fully well that now that the Faith of the Seven and the Citadel had powerful groups deeply against them, it was paramount to be able not only to gain the respect and favour of the Lords, but also to win the hearts and minds of the common folk. Only then could they ensure their safety against attacks and manipulations.
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For the rest of the day, people went about doing repairs to the castle and treating the wounded. Arya and Arabella made significant contributions in both areas and by the end of the day the castle was as good as new and all wounded were either fully healed or stabilized with no risk of dying.
Now, Arabella sat on the bathtub in her room, with only her head and shoulders above the water surface. She didn't really need to take a bath, with cleaning spells being present and whatnot, but she wanted to take this moment to relax both body and mind in the warm water. It was already evening and she was absolutely exhausted.
There was going to be a large feast in her and Arya's honor to celebrate their victory. Now that Pinkmaiden wasn't under siege anymore, there was no reason to ration supplies so even the common folk would receive large portions of food and drinks to commemorate.
She didn't really wish to attend, much preferring a good bed and some sleep, but she knew her presence was necessary, both to inspire the morale of the people and also not to offend anyone.
At least, this time, she was proud of her performance. Even when the barrier failed and it became impossible to restore, her quick thinking saved plenty of lives and gave them that victory, which she knew was a great turning point in the conflict. Once Lord Stark arrived at Pinkmaiden, the loyalist forces would flood into the Westerlands and pressure the enemy. Not that she'd be accompanying him, as she already had plans to apparate back to Riverrun in the morning and aid them in their defense.
A knock on her door took the Witch out of her reverie.
"Arabella, come out! We're late already! I want to eat!" said Arya through the door.
"I'm almost out, wait a minute" she said, then sighed and got out of the bathtub.
She was overall a tall woman and her body was mostly slender, but with rather feminine curves and everything in her was very proportional. She wasn't what most men would call voluptuous, but that didn't mean she wasn't a pleasant sight, quite the contrary. Her figure gave out an elegance few ladies had any hope of matching, while, at the same time, having a sensuality of its own. Many who had seen both her and Margery Tyrell often drew parallels between her and the Rose of Highgarden, though they were quick to add that Arabella's beauty surpassed even that of the Tyrell girl.
She quickly dried herself with a spell and put on her formal attire for the feast. It was a black dress with dark green snakes heads on its shoulders with their bodies slithering all the way to the end of sleeves. From the back, tied to her epaulets, flew a dark cloak that enveloped her arms and almost touched the ground. To finalize, she put a black pointy witch hat with a dark green fishnet veil flowing towards the right side of her face.
Once she was ready to shock the gathered nobles with her fashion choices, she decided to walk out. The Lords of Westeros were used to having her adapt to their fashion, now they'd have a taste of what fashion looked like in the Wizarding World.
She opened the door and looked at Arya. She initially had an impatient frown in her face that immediately gave way to awe.
"Woooooow" was the only thing Arya was able to say.
"Thank you Arya!" chuckled Arabella "you look great yourself too"
Indeed, Arya wasn't dressed much differently from her. The main changes were that Aryas' dress wasn't black, but white and she had two grey Direwolves embroidered in her chest. She also wore a white witch hat with a grey band coming out of its back and her cloak was also white. Arabella would have preferred some other color, but it had to match the sigil of House Stark, a grey Direwolf on a white field.
Still, it was amusing to her to see the contrast between them. It was almost like they were Braavosi nobles, since black and white were the favourite colours not only of the faceless men, but for their nobility as well.
They walked together towards the main hall where everyone was already assembled. All present stood up and Lord Piper's voice boomed through the room.
"A toast to Lady Arabella Slytherin and Lady Arya Stark! The Witches of Westeros!"
"Hear hear!"
"Long live the Silver Snake!"
"Hear hear"
The feast proceeded to be one of the happiest celebrations Arabella had ever witnessed. Inside the room, the nobles sang, danced and ate in large quantities. The same could be said by the common folk outside, whose cheers could be heard even through the bard's music.
Many ladies came to strike long conversations with the Witches regarding their choice of attire. There were plenty of notes taken on their style and Arabella gave a few pointers on how to produce them, though she wasn't an expert and the nobles would have to figure out most of the process themselves.
Lord Piper got so drunk he even forgot his respectful fear of Arabella and decided to ask her to a dance. She was about to refuse when Arya pushed her into the man's arms and gave her a wide grin. Arabella's glare towards the girl only heightened her happiness. They spun around on the dance floor with the Witch trying her utmost best to avoid the Lord's feet on her toes.
After they finished the dance, many other invitations brought her back to the dance floor. Lords and knights alike wanted the prestige of having some of her time and since Lord Piper had shown the way, the remaining nobles followed. It was around the tenth dance that Arabella felt the exhaustion taking her. Looking around she noticed that most guests were either dozing off, retiring to their rooms or very drunk, which gave her the perfect chance to escape to her own chambers.
However, she didn't leave before taking a very happy and drunk Ser Lewin to Arya.
"Here you go, Ser Piper. I'm sure Arya would be delighted to have this dance with you."
The knight took an awkward drunken bow and extended his hand towards the girl. Much like she had done to Arabella, this time it was the Witch's turn to push the Stark girl into another man's arms. With a grin of satisfaction, she finally left the hall and retired to a blissful night of sleep.
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The following morning, Arya glared at her for a few minutes during breakfast before resuming her natural cheerful tone. They were eating together with the other Lords responsible for the defense of the castle.
"My Lady, we're facing an impasse and I guess we'd all like your opinion, given the most recent events. Some of us believe we should pursue the fleeing enemies and break them completely, while others say we should stay here and wait for Lord Stark. What do you think we should do?" asked Lord Vance.
She thought for a while and then answered.
"My Lords, I believe the prudent action would be to wait for reinforcements from the Crownlands and Stormlands. Although we managed to rout Tywin's army, I'm sure it wasn't the full extent of his forces. If you ran after him, you face a serious risk of being ambushed by a much larger army than yours. With more soldiers, you can hope to secure a more favorable battlefield, as well as discourage Tywin from attacking you while you sleep."
The Lords all looked at each other and nodded. In their eyes, Arabella had garnered great respect amongst them and the common folk too. Not only in battle, but also out of it, by helping in the repair efforts and by healing the wounded. Lords and servants alike looked at her with admiration, though the nobles had many other thoughts and intentions behind their eyes. With that, it was decided they'd wait for Ned Stark.
"Won't you and Lady Stark stay with us during this time, My Lady?" asked Lord Piper.
"No" she answered simply "Arya and I are going back to Riverrun, to confer with Lord Holster. If all goes well, when Rob Stark arrives, we'll march on the Golden Tooth."
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Hey everyone, Agandor here!
Just a reminder of our schedule for the next two weeks while I'm away:
Next chapter on Wednesday 16th and then new updates on Wednesday 23rd and Friday 25th. After that we will hopefully be back to our normal summer schedule.