The knight before him stood trembling, though pride kept his shoulders square.
"Are you next as well, Ser Julian?" Prince Aegon asked.
He raised his sword and leveled its point at the man's chest. The steel caught the light, cold and unwavering. "Will you also die in service to the Green King?"
Ser Julian swallowed. His face had gone pale as milk, yet he did not step back. He tightened his grip upon his longsword, knuckles white beneath the leather.
"I was born a knight," he said at last. His voice shook, but his words did not. "And when I die, I shall die as one."
With a hoarse cry, he charged.
His blade came down in a desperate arc, swift but unrefined. Against him stood a prince hardened by war and sharpened by blood. Aegon turned aside the blow with ease, stepped inside the knight's guard, and struck once with the flat of his blade. The impact knocked the breath from Julian's lungs. He stumbled, tried to recover, and was struck again. His sword fell from his grasp, clattering across the stones.
Aegon pressed his advantage without haste. He disarmed the knight, twisted his arm, and drove him to his knees. The fight had scarcely lasted a dozen heartbeats.
"Bind him," Aegon said.
Aerion lifted a hand, and Velaryon men surged forward at once. They kicked Ser Julian face-first to the ground, wrenched his arms behind his back, and bound him tightly. He did not cry out, though blood ran from his lip and spattered the deck beneath him.
"And what of me?" a hoarse voice called from nearby.
Ser Tyland Lannister stood with his head raised, though his sightless eyes stared into nothing. His face was a ruin of scars and scars upon scars, his ears crudely severed, his flesh twisted by old wounds and pain beyond naming.
"Will you not grant me a swift death?" he demanded. "Do not torment me as your mother did, Prince Aegon."
Aegon looked at him for a long moment. Then he sheathed his sword.
"Come, my lord," he said, and his voice was courteous once more. "You are my honored guest."
Tyland stiffened. Surprise flickered across his ruined features.
"You have my word," Aegon continued. "No harm will come to you."
Thus ended the fighting. Aerion's fleet carried the day, and the Green ships were taken and brought to Dragonstone. Ser Marston fell amid the clash. Ser Julian Wormwood was thrown into the dungeons. Ser Tyland Lannister was given chambers befitting his rank and guarded as a guest rather than a captive.
The sailors and guards swore fealty readily enough. Most were eager to do so. Any man with eyes could see what was coming. The storm over King's Landing had broken at last. The Green cause was a shattered wreck, already sinking beneath the waves. With the Cannibal and its rider now revealed, even the boldest among them knew the war was lost. No one wished to die for a doomed king.
Tyland Lannister was treated with care. No hand was raised against him. No insult was spoken in his presence.
At Aegon's command, Vale soldiers escorted the Blind Lion into the castle. His body was broken past hiding. His eyes were gone, his ears hacked away, his face carved and twisted by cruelty. Fishermen and soldiers alike recoiled when they saw him pass.
They brought him to the map table atop the Stone Drum. The chamber was wide and bare, open to wind and sky. The painted table lay between them, marked with the scars of war.
Princess Rhaena stood beside Aegon, silent and attentive. No others were present.
"You seek reconciliation, as the Sea Snake does?" Tyland asked. His voice carried puzzlement, and then something else. Understanding.
"Yes," Aegon replied. "But not in full. Only in part. Mercy may be given, but it depends upon sincerity. And I alone will judge that sincerity."
"The Green faction will cease to exist," Aegon continued evenly. "That much is certain. Mercy, reconciliation, and punishment will follow. Each... according to the wisdom of those who remain."
Tyland was silent for a time. At last he nodded.
"You speak truly," he said. "Victory is already yours. Yet the realm is shattered. Total purges would break it beyond repair."
Weariness had settled upon Westeros like a second winter. Lords, smallfolk, knights, and kings alike were spent. No man wished to draw the wrath of a grown dragon, cunning and terrible.
Tyland let out a breath and gave a bitter chuckle. "You are not so cruel as your mother, nor so reckless as your uncle. It seems this blind lion may yet live a few more years."
Had Aegon been mad, he would already have taken wing and burned King's Landing to ash, ending the war in fire and screams.
"I have heard the Lannisters keep an unwritten saying," Aegon said.
"A Lannister always pays his debts," Tyland replied, forcing a faint smile.
Before the fall of King's Landing, Tyland had divided the royal treasury into four parts. One went to the Iron Bank. Two were sent to Casterly Rock and Oldtown. The last was spent to bribe officials, placate allies, and hire sellswords. When the city fell, the coffers were bare. Hunger and fury followed, and the realm paid dearly.
"You emptied the treasury," Aegon said calmly. "You hastened my mother's fall. You were the blade that struck first. And you have paid for it."
He faced the blind man squarely.
"In this new age, I see no Green partisan before me. I see a man who may yet serve the realm."
After the war, Aegon would need men like Tyland. He was a statesman seasoned by years and broken by pain. A second son with no lands, no heirs, and no true allies. He could serve only the realm, and rely only upon the crown.
"How will you judge the Blacks and the Greens?" Tyland asked.
"There is good and evil on both sides," Aegon said. "Those loyal to me and capable of healing the realm will be used. Loyalty first. Talent second. The foolish and the vile will find no place in King's Landing."
"That is answer enough," Tyland said softly. "Dawn is coming."
"And the Green council?" he asked. "Those who still cling to power?"
"The Sea Snake will live," Aegon said. "The rest remains to be decided."
Corlys Velaryon would survive. Others deserved no such mercy.
"So be it," Tyland said. "You have won, Prince Aegon. They were never worthy foes..."
King's Landing would fall soon. The last rage of broken men would change nothing. Worse dangers lay ahead after all.
"My greatest enemy is not the Greens," Aegon said. "It is the winter to come."
A long winter, and the sickness that followed it.
"I would aid you," Tyland said. "But I am blind and broken."
"A blind lion is still a lion," Aegon replied. "And the realm must be rebuilt."
Rhaena stepped forward. "Why refuse, my lord? Can you watch the realm suffer under brutes and warlords?"
At last, Tyland inclined his head.
"For the realm, I will be loyal to you," he said. "Not to your mother, nor to her fury... but all for the realm"
Aegon passed his cup to Tyland.
And Tyland drank without hesitation.
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A/N:
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