The heads turned towards Wylis.
"Ser Wylis killed him," Eddard said.
Wylis shook his head. "Not a word of her. The bastard wept and wailed like a child before dying. Rambled of some prophecy, of some prince that was promised. Nonsense, no less mad than the cunt sitting on the throne."
"Uh…" Robert sighed and rubbed his forehead. "What are our losses? How many did we lose?"
"Less than I feared, Your Grace," Lord Hoster voiced, a little too praiseful. "When we spoke of retreat, I thought half our men would be gone. But Ser Wylis slew Prince Lewyn and Ser Jonothor swiftly, and their ranks broke apart. That spared us the worst. I'd say we lost less than a quarter of our men."
Pa!
"Hah!" Robert let out a roar and smacked his thigh. "By the Gods, Wylis, you've outdone yourself. Still, I'll not pretend I earned it."
Robert looked at the dead body with disappointment.
Wylis felt bad for the man. He didn't want Robert to be completely out of the battle. Now, how would a Robert, unsatisfied by his own victory, feel? How would such a Robert rule the realm? It was yet another variable that Wylis had to consider now.
"What matters is that we prevailed, though outnumbered," Lord Jon Arryn interrupted. "This is no hour for cheer or feast. We must press on to King's Landing before Aerys finds his wits, before the Tyrells or Lannisters make their move."
Eddard shook his head. "They need a day to rest before we march. Two if we mean to fight."
"Don't look at me." Robert waved his hand. "You won the damn battle, you decide."
It was visibly clear; Robert wasn't happy with that victory.
"You're still the new King," Wylis commented.
"Fine, let them rest two days. We're close enough to the city," Robert said and stood up, albeit weakly. He walked over Rhaegar's body and, out of nowhere, hugged Wylis like a brother. "Gods be damned, I owe you, Wylis. They wanted to retreat; I wanted to fight. Seven hells, you did what I wanted to. You did it, you ended the bloody war, and spared me from shame I thought I'd carry to the grave."
Wylis patted Robert's back. "I wasn't alone in this, Robert. Lord Stark fought as well."
"Bah! Don't pretend modesty now!" Robert pulled back and roared, grinning. "You'll be rewarded. Seven, the realm owes you. Any woman you want—"
"I'm already married, Robert." Wylis clarified quickly.
"..."
The men in the tent froze, their heads turned towards Wylis.
"I married her when I was in hiding from the Mad King's bounty. There's probably a child of mine by now. I left her carrying, as I recall."
"..."
Lord Hoster and Lord Jon awkwardly scratched their heads. To be honest, they hoped they had daughters they could use to tie Wylis to their houses. But such was fate, Lord Hoster's daughters just got married to the two men in that same tent. And Lord Jon himself was newlywed.
"Seven hells! You're a fast one." Robert threw an arm around Wylis's shoulder. "Tell me, is she a beauty?"
"Without a doubt," Wylis stated proudly. He really loved Lyanna, as fucked up as his sexual life outside marriage was.
"Ha! I can't wait to meet her! The woman who stole your fat heart. She must be a giant herself!"
Wylis thought of Lyanna and almost laughed. Her head reached his chest on a good day.
"Short, actually. Though I must admit, she did threaten to chop off my balls a few times."
"Bahaha!" Robert howled in laughter. "Ha! Nothing else from your woman, eh? I feel bloody splendid now! We may not have a full feast, but a small toast for Wylis? Aye, I'm for it!"
"What do we do with this?" Eddard pointed at the dead prince.
Robert scorned. "Don't they love fire? Burn it."
Wylis didn't meddle in their decisions anymore. He had other matters to worry about. The sacking of King's Landing, Elia Martell's murder, and Rhaella. But as the man who killed Rhaegar with his own hands, he felt uneasy.
How will Rhaella and Elia react to me now?
####
King's Landing, Red Keep,
"Ha! Lies, lies to the king! Do you think me blind? Deaf? No dragon dies, no dragon bends. My fire still lives; it crackles in my blood. Yes, yes, Rhaegar… fool boy, weak, treacherous. He abandoned me, betrayed me. His failure is the rot, not mine!"
The Mad King roared from his chair in the emergency small council meeting. His eyes red, his filthy hair and nails the same as ever. He glared at each member at the table.
"Your Grace, they'll march for King's Landing soon. We must fortify the city." Lord Qarlton Chelsted suggested the current Hand of the King. "Without Prince Rhaegar, Prince Viserys is the realm's only heir in our keeping."
"Yes, yes, true, so true. The dragon has many heads, many heads… it does. Away with them, send Viserys, send Rhaella to Dragonstone before the filth comes crawling. I shall face the rebel scums on my own. I'll have the city fortified. They shan't enter these walls, and if they do, they'll face the dragon's fire!" The Mad King rose from his chair. "Tell me who? My son, who cut him down? Was it Robert? Or Stark?"
The men at the table looked at each other with unease.
"It was… Ser Wylis, Your Grace," Lord Varys answered.
"Mmhmhm… Y-yes, my giant, my c-champion, my beast, my b-beautiful, burning beast!" The King clapped his hands in fevered delight. "Lovely, lovely, exactly as I said… n-no… no, no! H-how dare he? To slay a dragon, my son? Aye, aye, blind, yet still mine, still mine! Bring him! Send the men out, send them all out, bring me my champion! The Gods have not turned! Not from me, not from fire, not from blood! He will stand, he must stand for me, I will it!"
The members at the table scratched their heads, but they just nodded to the King. That was all they could do. They had no armies. All they had were the Gold Cloaks, who were only good enough to shut the gates.
"Your Grace, Lord Tywin prepares to march at the earliest," Lord Varys added.
"W-wonderful! Wondrous, yes, yes! The lion… the lion knows now… knows his place! He'll be… he'll be rewarded, yes, oh yes! Hah… he has a daughter, yes? I'll let her womb… yes, bear dragons… for my heir, Viserys! Hah! That… that should… that should be plenty."
That was actually the most sane idea the King had that day.
After that, the members of the small council got up to leave.
"Hand, stay," the Mad King called suddenly, and waited until it was just the two of them. "Get the alchemists! Get them to set jars of wildfire under the city."
"Your Grace?" Lord Qarlton Chelsted exclaimed, frowning. "You…"
"If I come to pass, let the usurper rule a city of ashes! A city of corpses… Yes, yes, a city of the dead!"
"I-I can't, Your Grace. The city… There are people, so many of them!"
The Mad King sneered, "If you won't, another will!"
Later that same night, Lord Qarlton Chelsted was burned to death in green flames.
####
That same night, Queen Rhaella was escorted to the port with Viserys at her side and a babe growing in her belly. She had received word of the battle. She knew what had transpired. She'd lost her firstborn son.
"Ser Jaime, do you truly think your father will make it to the city in time?" she asked, her steps quickening toward the ship.
"My father's plans are beyond me, Your Grace. I wish I could offer you more than empty words."
Rhaella sighed and looked back towards the city, towards the tall Red Keep. She really didn't know what to expect from the future anymore. She had no love for her husband, but she did fear the worst for her family. For Elia, still locked inside there.
"Ser Jaime… How… did Rhaegar die?"
"I only know what the raven brought, Your Grace. Robert was pulled back from the fight, sick and hurt. It was Ser Wylis who took command, slew two commanders, and then bested Prince Rhaegar in single combat," Ser Jaime answered.
Rhaella froze for a moment. She'd already heard about it before, but it still perplexed her. She couldn't tell what she was feeling about Wylis. She was deeply fond of that man. But now, even after he killed her son, she couldn't change her mind to hate him. At the same time, she was saddened by Rhaegar's demise.
"Mother, move faster! Father said I am to guard you! You must do exactly as I say!" Viserys cried. "Ser Jaime, watch the city."
Rhaella sighed and moved. And as she neared the ship, she felt the weight of the situation. She felt like she'd never see this city again. That she'd never return home. She had no confidence in her husband's leadership. Lannisters were the only hope, but even they couldn't be fully trusted.
Ser Wylis… She thought of meeting that man, and that night. She hated thinking about it. Please don't hate me if I come to… dislike you.
Finally, she boarded the ship.
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