Stone Hedge, The Riverlands.
A thousand miles away.
The night at Stone Hedge was torn into fragments by fire. Daemon Targaryen sat atop Caraxes, looking down at the burning castle below.
The Blood Wyrm's scales shimmered a dark, bruised red in the reflection of the flames.
It was the fourth day of the siege. House Bracken had held out for four days. Daemon had not initially expected them to last this long.
Humfrey Bracken, a man Daemon had never truly deigned to look at, had actually dared to bar the gates, refuse messengers, refuse negotiations, and refuse surrender.
For four days. Daemon had to admit, he felt a flicker of respect.
Caraxes exhaled his seventh stream of dragonfire for the night.
A watchtower collapsed with a deafening roar, sending masonry flying and flames shooting toward the heavens.
Bracken soldiers scattered from the ruins like ants from a kicked nest.
But those ants did not surrender. They retreated into the inner ward, into the keep, and into every corner where they could continue to resist.
Atop the walls, the banner of Lord Humfrey Bracken still flew: a red stallion, rearing on a brown field.
Daemon gave a light kick to the dragon's neck. Caraxes swept low over the battlements, the gale from his wings nearly snapping the flagpole.
Daemon reached out and snatched the banner. He thrust it upside down into the buckle of his saddle, the red flag snapping violently in the night wind.
Then, he landed on the lines held by the Blackwood army outside the walls.
Alyssane Blackwood hurried to meet him. Fourteen years old, with raven curls and amber eyes full of firelight, she was strikingly beautiful.
The Riverland Lords called her "Black Aly."
She was a renowned archer, sharp-tongued and fearless.
"Prince!" she cried, her face flushed with excitement and adoration.
"The Brackens are breaking! I saw that coward Amos Bracken's legs shaking on the wall! That boy used to get his teeth kicked in by me when we were little!"
Daemon dismounted and tossed the red flag to her casually.
"A trophy for you."
Black Aly caught the banner and froze for a heartbeat. Then, her face split into a wide grin. This was the ancestral sigil of their blood-rivals, the Brackens.
With this flag in her possession, she could humiliate those stubborn horses until their ancestors turned in their graves. She clutched the flag to her chest.
"Thank you, Prince!"
Daemon didn't look at her. He stared at the castle that was still burning.
"Send word to Humfrey Bracken. This is his final chance. Surrender tonight, and preserve the House. Break the gates tomorrow, and not a soul, not even the hounds, will be spared."
-------
Stone Hedge, The Inner Keep.
Humfrey Bracken stood by the window. Outside was a sea of fire. He was fifty-one years old. His first wife died of childbed fever.
His second died of typhus.
His third wife, Leilani, was young enough to be his daughter.
He had two grown sons. His trueborn heir, Amos Bracken, was twenty-five, brave and loyal, but not particularly bright.
His baseborn son, Raylon Rivers, was twenty-seven, intelligent and cautious, but without inheritance rights.
The moment he had seen Prince Daemon and his dragon, Humfrey had made his decision.
Before the Blackwood army began their assault, he ordered Raylon to take Lady Leilani and his two youngest children through the secret tunnels, fleeing under the cover of night toward Riverrun.
"Go to Lord Grover Tully," he had said.
"Ask him, for the sake of the Seven, to shelter my family."
Raylon had knelt before him, his face streaked with tears.
"Father..."
"I am not your father," Humfrey had interrupted, his expression unchanged.
"You are a Rivers. A bastard. You owe House Bracken nothing."
He paused.
"Go, Raylon. Seek the Greens. I will make my stand here; they will take you in because of it."
Raylon had left, escorting the young wife and children. By now, they should have reached Riverrun. Humfrey felt a sense of relief.
It seemed the war between the Blacks and the Greens had truly begun, and he had never imagined the opening act would take place on his own lands.
He had thought of sending ravens to King's Landing to notify Aegon II, but the "Raven-Teeth" of House Blackwood were stationed outside... those master archers never missed their mark.
If the war continued this way, the entire Riverlands would be reduced to ash. He had to make preparations for the survival of his bloodline.
Hurried footsteps echoed outside. Amos burst in, his crimson armor scorched black, his face covered in soot.
"Father! Prince Daemon has sent an envoy! He says... surrender tonight and preserve the House. Break the gates tomorrow, and leave nothing alive."
Humfrey did not turn. "What do you think?"
Amos opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to say surrender. All of Stone Hedge was lost; only the inner keep remained.
He had watched with his own eyes as Caraxes tore three watchtowers apart with fire. He did not want to see his father or the remnants of their army turned into charred husks.
But he couldn't say it. His father had taught him many things, the most important being: House Bracken can endure defeat, but it will never surrender to the Blackwoods.
For a thousand years, the Blackwoods and Brackens had slaughtered one another.
The Blackwoods had surrendered before, and so had the Brackens, but always to the Iron Throne, to a greater power.
Never to each other. If they knelt tonight, tomorrow the whole of the Riverlands would sing of how the Bracken knelt to the Blackwood.
His father would sooner die than accept such ignominy.
Amos lowered his head. "I follow your lead."
Humfrey finally turned. He looked at his son.
Amos was covered in ash, his lips were cracked, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
It wasn't just fear; it was the physical exhaustion of days of combat. He had done his best.
"Amos," Humfrey said, "you are twenty-five this year."
Amos didn't understand why his father brought this up now.
"When you were born, your mother died in labor. Every morning I went to the Lord's hall to handle business, every noon I rode the borders, and every evening I came back to be with you. Back then, the days without your mother felt long, long enough to last forever."
Amos's eyes began to redden. "Father..."
"Now, my days are finished. But I have one task left to complete." He reached out and patted his son's shoulder.
"Stone Hedge is yours. You are the Lord of Stone Hedge."
Amos looked up.
"Father?"
Humfrey didn't look back. He walked toward the door. Amos lunged forward, gripping his father's arm.
"Father! Where are you going?"
Humfrey looked down at his son's hands.
"Amos, when you were small, you asked me why our sigil was a stallion. I told you it was because our ancestors had no dragons and no magic; they won everything they had with nothing but a horse. But even a horse has a master, and it can never let its enemy ride upon its back."
He gently pried his son's fingers loose and pushed open the doors.
The night wind howled inside, carrying the scent of smoke and the distant, low growl of Caraxes.
Amos tried to follow, but two guards held him back.
"Father!"
Humfrey didn't look back. He walked through the burning courtyard, past the collapsed towers, and over the charred corpses and broken spears.
The dark-haired old Lord moved slowly through the fire, walking toward the castle gates.
On the walls, the Blackwood soldiers who had already breached the perimeter saw the lonely figure.
Some raised their bows, but Benjicot Blackwood signaled them to stop.
Daemon had dismounted Caraxes. He stood in the clearing outside the gates, waiting for the Lord to walk over and surrender.
Humfrey Bracken stopped before him. His hair was windswept, and the edges of his robes were singed.
He had no sword, no shield, no weapon of any kind. He stood there, peaceful.
"Daemon Targaryen."
Daemon did not answer.
"I saw you at Harrenhal when I was young," Humfrey mused to himself.
"That tourney. You were sixteen, riding a stallion no one else dared approach, wearing armor gifted by the Old King Jaehaerys. Back then, many of us Lords yearned to defeat you, the proud Dragon Prince... to seize that glory."
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I, too, was one of those you defeated."
Daemon remained silent. Humfrey looked around. His home was burning.
His soldiers were dead or yielding. His eldest son was weeping at the gates of the inner keep.
"I swore an oath. My sword belongs to King Aegon II."
He looked back at Daemon. "I will not break my word."
Daemon finally spoke.
"You are a man worthy of respect."
Humfrey smiled weakly. "I am merely maintaining the family's dignity. My son... he has taken no oath of fealty. He will swear to you."
Daemon was silent for a moment before replying, "Rest easy. I will not visit my anger upon him."
Humfrey watched him for a long time.
"Targaryen," the old Lord said, "you are not entirely without a conscience."
He turned around. Behind him, the watchtower whose roof had been melted by dragonfire was still roaring.
Flames licked out of the windows and cracks, turning the stone pillar into a massive torch. Humfrey walked toward it.
His pace was slow, without hesitation. He pushed open the scorched wooden door at the base.
Amos's wail echoed from the inner gate.
"FATHER!"
Humfrey did not look back. He walked into the fire.
Daemon stood outside the gates, watching the tower. Soon, flames erupted from the lower windows.
The night sky turned a brilliant orange-red. The stones of the tower cracked under the heat, letting out sharp, popping sounds.
No one spoke. Black Aly's expression was complex.
The Blackwoods and Brackens had hated each other for a millennium, but watching that tower burn, she couldn't bring herself to say a single word of mockery.
Daemon stood in silence for a long time.
From the inner gate, Amos emerged with the remaining soldiers, looking like ghosts.
His face was a mask of mud, tears, and ash. He stood before Daemon.
Daemon looked down at him.
"Your father is dead. You are now the Lord of Stone Hedge and the head of House Bracken."
Amos did not respond.
"Kneel and swear to me, and you are my army. Refuse, and you die."
Amos kept his head down. He was unwilling, but what choice was there?
Should he let House Bracken be the first to vanish in this civil war? Behind him, the surviving soldiers waited for their new Lord's choice.
Amos looked up at the burning tower where his father had died.
He slowly lowered his knees until his forehead touched the blood-soaked earth.
Behind him, a thousand Bracken soldiers went down like a receding tide.
Daemon watched him. "From this day forth, the Bracken forces are temporarily under the command of House Mallister."
Amos's shoulders shook slightly. He did not look up.
"Yes."
Daemon turned. Caraxes let out a low hiss, and his wings unfurled.
Daemon mounted the dragon. He took one last look at the burning tower.
'Humfrey. It wasn't I who killed you.'
The night wind swept the ash past his face.
'It was this broken world that killed you.'
-----
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