A knight's tale
There were very few things that could make Arys Oakheart turn his face to not see them.
Men burning to death was one of them.
"A suitable ending for traitors," King Joffrey said laughing.
No, it was not a suitable ending for anyone. "Yes, Your Grace," he said.
A Kingsguard knight would only protect his king, not judge him.
Not even when said king wouldn't be one for much longer…
Arys forced down the sigh threatening to leave his lips. He had made his oath before the gods, he wouldn't go back on his word.
"We should go back to the Red Keep, Your Grace," Ser Boros said.
Arys didn't need to look at his sworn brother to see his trembling legs. However, it was one of the rare times he agreed with the coward. There was little else to do, the wall would fall soon. It wasn't a matter of 'if', it was 'when' and if they would still be alive to negotiate with Renly.
"And be called a craven by my court?" Joffrey said, rising his voice. "All traitors will die today. I'll crush them all the same way my father did with the dragons."
And here it was, his boy king refusing accept reality for what it was. Even the newly appointed Kingsguard, Ser Osmund Kettleblack, gave their king an unimpressed look.
Renly's first assaults may have been repelled, but this was not like his previous attacks. The younger Baratheon had finally decided that today was the day he'd be taking King's Landing and it was only a matter of time for him and his army to do so.
Stannis may have breached the River Gate, but a disciplined commander like him wouldn't move from there until he secured it and its surroundings. This in turn would give Renly enough time to take this side of the city.
It would all be decided in a bloody battle in the streets and alleys of King's Landing between two Baratheons. And Joffrey wasn't one of them.
In the end, however, it would be Renly's banner flapping over the city, even the queen saw it for what it was. The Reach's army would be able to endure Stannis wrath. Not because it was better, not because it had justice on their side, no. Renly would win because he had the numbers.
A new wave of attackers crashed against the wall. The tired defenders rose yet again to fight them off.
The screams of burning men made him flinch. He wanted to avert his gaze, close his eyes at the scene and not think about it, but to do so was not what a knight should do.
He had to at least witness the last moments of his enemies. Even if their screams would haunt his nights, even if he wanted to tear off his ears to never listen again.
"Bahahaha! That's what traitors deserve! Burn! Burn!" Joffrey said, heedless to how everyone around him reacted.
A Kingsguard knight would only protect his king, not judge him.
The phrase was taught to him the first time he saw King Robert bringing whores to his royal rooms. With time, the phrase became less and less jarring. The more Arys accepted Robert the way he was, the less he recurred to the phrase.
With Joffrey…
In truth, he didn't think he could accept a king rejoicing at the sight of soldiers burning. The same king who sent Ser Preston Greenfield and the Hound to their deaths outside the walls, the same king who started this war.
Oh, how he wanted to swallow his tongue for the taunts he threw at Ser Loras.
Robert may not have been the Conciliator, but Joffrey… Arys wasn't deaf to not hear what some of the servants called his king. Not even Tywin's reputation was enough to stop the murmurs and whispers in court.
The thud of siege ladders slamming against the wall interrupted his musings. There was little time left to make a choice.
Ser Boros did little to hide his fright. The man was making his armor rattle from how much he was trembling. If he hadn't run, it was because his legs wouldn't allow it.
It was time to make a choice, but—
"Your Grace, it is time to return to the Red Keep," Arys said, his voice calm as a lake.
"Do you think I'm afraid of my uncle, Oakheart?" Joffrey screeched. "He's a traitor, and he deserves a traitor's death."
And so, the last chance to avoid having to make a choice scattered in the wind.
"Look, it's my uncle's banner." The boy king pointed at a ladder sixty yards left. "Hah! The craven finally decided to join the battle."
Arys turned his eyes to Boros and, in his gaze, found everything he needed to know. His sworn brother had made his choice already.
As they waited for Renly to reach them, Arys found himself envious of the coward to his side for the first time in his life. The weight of not making a choice was becoming unbearable.
From the first time he picked up a sword in the training yard, it had been his dream to join the Kingsguard. He had made a vow. He wore the white cloak, he was called to lay his life for his king no matter what.
But.
For Joffrey?
Renly's royal banner advanced steadily through the wall. The city watch gritted their teeth and tried to stop him, but it was for naught. They were exhausted and hungry long before today, and now, they had offered everything they had left when they saw their king on the wall by their side.
A king who wouldn't even remember any of their faces.
Arys Oakheart felt the weight of the moment press over him. Renly Baratheon and his knights cleaved through the drained defenders like it was nothing. Part of him wanted to rage at them, shout at them for falling this quick. But another part of him understood them, he was tired as well.
The sound of battle became all and the same until…
"Nephew," Renly said. "This doesn't have to—"
"Ser Boros, bring me my uncle's head!" Joffrey shrieked.
It was here and now. It was time for Arys to make a choice, for he knew that Ser Boros had already made his.
His moment of doubt, was enough for Boros to walk past him.
"All hail, King Renly!" the piggish man roared.
Arys made gritted his teeth and chose.
His sworn brother's head fell before he was able to kneel. Arys sword was red with his blood.
"Ser Arys," Renly mocked. "I'm pleasantly surprised to see the new Lord Commander is a reasonable man."
His shoulders loosened up as he felt the heat on his ears settle down. He could breathe freely once again.
He made a vow. And he was going to keep it.
"Hhmm, no words? And here I thought we could settle this with no bloodshed."
Joffrey screeched something from the back. Whatever it was, it didn't matter.
"Kettleblack, take His Grace to the Red Keep," Arys said and raised his sword and shield. "Brave men of the City Watch, we fight!"
He didn't wait for a reply as he charged with a roar.
A shield bash was enough to remove the spearman he had in front. A sword slash nicked his armor, but it didn't stop his desperate run.
In less than a heartbeat, there was only one person in front. The blue caped knight of Renly's Rainbow Guard stepped forward to stop him.
Arys tried for a feint to the right and strike with his shield from the left. The knight read him perfectly and met his shield with his own.
He took half a step back to reassess his opponent. Loras relied on his speed to weave in and out of his reach, the knight in front had a more steady style, so Arys settled himself in the stance he practiced since his days in Old Oak's yard.
A heavy slash crashed against his shield, his arm almost buckling under the weight. In an instant, he kicked the front leg of his opponent as he pushed his sword to the side.
He could've risked it all in a maddened attempt at piercing through the knight's gorget. But he couldn't afford to risk his life that way, not just yet.
The Kingsguard were sworn to protect their king. Until Joffrey was in the Red Keep, he wouldn't be safe, and so, Arys would be the wall covering the retreat.
He stepped back and retrained his eyes on his opponent's sword. The bedlam of the battlefield faded away as he focused every sense into the blue caped knight in front.
His legs carried him forward and his sword led the attack.
Sword clashed on shield and for the second time this day, Arys Oakheart fought with his life on the line.
The most dangerous weapon a swordsman has is his mind. The words his master-at-arms branded into his mind came at him. And just how it happened in in his previous duel, his sword became an extension of his arm.
His opponent had a refined footwork. His every step was measured and had a specific reason. Light, yet steady. He realized his previous kick wouldn't have fazed the knight, if he followed through and tried to kill him, he would've died instead.
A smile spread across his lips.
This wasn't the tired and arrogant Knight of Flowers, this was what a real duel was supposed to be.
He had a plan now. He would start with his shield, fill his opponent senses with a flurry of overhand thrusts and when the time came, he'd be letting go of his shield and—
"Ser Arys!" the panicked voice of Joffrey reached him.
"Good to see there are reasonable men left in King's Landing," Renly said.
Dreading what he was going to find, Arys turned his head to where his king was.
"Kettleblack," he raged from under his breath. "You swore to protect your king!"
Joffrey was held at dagger point by the eldest Kettleblack brother.
"Your Grace," Osmund Kettleblack ignored Arys. "I have captured the usurper."
It was then, it dawned on Arys.
There were a handful of gold cloaks bleeding on the floor. The rest stood frozen, their hands lowered. Their faces, even lower.
It was all for naught.
His oath, his doubts. His resolve.
All for nothing.
"Now, Ser Arys." Renly's voice was mocking. "Lower your weapon, and I'll remember it as a kindness."
Was this all he would ever amount to?
To have two Kingsguard knights betray their king. In front of their Lord Commander no less…
There was only one way to wash the shame away.
He gripped his sword until his hand burned. A frenzied rush to seize Renly as hostage was the only plan he could think of.
"Ah, nephew," Renly interrupted his thoughts. "Make your Lord Commander surrender, or we may see more blood before the day is over."
You dare—
"Oakheart!" Joffrey squeaked. "Throw down your steel."
Arys glanced back. As he expected, Kettleblack was pressing his dagger at Joffrey's neck.
What was left to do?
This wasn't what he imagined when he joined the Kingsguard. Serving a boy king with the spark of madness the last Targaryen king had was enough, but now…
Renly took off his helmet. A satisfied smile was carved on his face.
A Kingsguard knight protects his king with his life.
The blade clanged against the cold stone. The sound hurt Arys like nothing had hurt him before.
It was done. This was his legacy. The Lord Commander who yielded.
"Your Grace, we should free Ser Loras," said his would be opponent, the blue caped knight. It wasn't the voice Arys expected.
"Aye, please do so, Brienne."
Ser Arys Oakheart. The Lord Commander who couldn't defeat a woman.
An oppressive weight settled on his shoulders once again. It was as if heavy chains were dragging him down.
His armor felt like it weighted ten times more, his ears felt like exploding. He shut out all the sound before it could completely deafen him.
After minutes that felt like an eternity, Arys turned to see the banner he was defending.
Joffrey's lion and stag was taken down. In its place, Renly's banner was fluttering on the wind. It was then, the queen's words returned to him, "Promise me you won't leave Joffrey's side," she pleaded. "You have to promise me."
The Lord Hand said the men would fight harder if they saw their king with them. He was right, they wouldn't have lasted this long without Joffrey's presence.
The queen was against it, and made herself clear on the matter. She counseled her lord father against it, then she screeched, and pleaded over and over, but the Lord Hand's word was final.
When morning came, all she asked of Arys was to never leave Joffrey's side. And he failed even in that.
Renly's soldiers were tearing down all of Joffrey's sigils when Arys noticed something from the corner of his eye.
The trebuchets on Visenya's Hill that didn't fire even once due to Lord Tywin's orders, started loading.
"Did Lord Tywin found an opportunity to defeat Stannis?" he muttered to himself.
The Three Whores were built to stop Stannis' fleet, but Lord Tywin didn't want to use them against Renly's army because "It would barely whittle down an army that big, it would only enrage them."
But now, they were being loaded.
Arys didn't thought much about the trebuchets up until now. Not when they were fighting, not even when they were losing. From the moment Lord Tywin said they wouldn't be used, he didn't thought of the Three Whores.
Mayhaps that was why it took him long to realize what was about to happen.
Renly's army was green, it would be a fitting end for it to end in green as well.
Three big barrels came in their direction. Arys sat down right were he was and closed his eyes.
It didn't stop him from seeing green.
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A/N: Originally I wanted to write from Loras' perspective, but being a prisoner is kind of boring when there's a big battle you are not participating.
Joffrey is delusional as all hell here. Without Tyrion here, and Tywin 'stifling' his fun, he had other outlets for his… Joffrey-ness
This is the final part of the interlude. Next we have a mini-arc.
Anyways, give me your comments ༼ ͡ ◕ ͜ ʖ ◕͡ ༽