Daenerys' conquest
"Loose!" Only 12 bowstrings sang as Captain Symon barked the order. He was the Captain of the Guard and his lord's Marshal: commanding his 400 men at arms in the field of battle when the need arose. Now he commanded 12 frightened and demoralized bowmen, they were all that remained of his once formidable army. He knew the flights of arrows were utterly useless against their foe but doing nothing would see these remaining men in a full route. To his left, Captain Symon could see perhaps a half dozen or more survivors fleeing from the castle behind him. They were the reason he fought on, he would forfeit his life to see them reach safety...He knew death was coming. Raising his father's sword, he readied the archers for another volley. Behind him, the earth shook violently. Captain Symon fought the urge to turn around and look at the seemingly unstoppable foe looming over the castle. These remaining desperate men needed his strength and leadership and he knew that both would desert him if he turned to face the Targaryen giantess at his back.
----------
House Bernard was a lesser noble house within The Vale that had sworn fealty to House Arryn before the time of the Targaryen conquest. It is unsurprising that this house has been overlooked by the histories of Westeros and the Bernard family actually preferred it this way. For 300 years, they had dutifully guarded their mountain pass and the verdant valley below from the enemies of The Vale. Their ancestral stronghold, Ravensburg Castle, was not as large or as impressive as the fortresses of the great houses but it was still formidable. Any army wishing to use the pass it guarded must first take this stronghold.
Phillip Bernard was young for a lord at only 31. Upon the recent death of his father, Phillip and his young wife had taken up their roles as Lord and Lady of Ravensburg. As the political crisis in the south worsened, the autonomy that House Bernard had always enjoyed from its liege lords had loosened even further. While still formally remaining a vassal in the service of the Lord of The Vale in Eyrie, Lord Bernard's lands were now de facto independent. He had no use for the intrigues of either the Eyrie or Kings Landing. He busied himself fighting the various hill tribes, securing his noble position, and most importantly...increasing his wealth.
A raven had delivered news that a new player in the civil war had arrived in Westeros: a Targaryen. Reading further, Lord Bernard laughed dismissively. He tossed the message into the Great Hall's roaring fire. This claimant was demanding the submission of every noble house within Westeros, including his! This upstart Targaryen was only a youth and a woman at that. She had also arrived with no army, rumors of three runtling dragons being her only companions. The Lord of Ravensburg had more pressing matters to deal with than concerning himself with this so-called 'queen.'
Captain Symon and his men had just returned from a raid. His party had attacked one of the hill tribes living in the foothills overlooking the River Trident to the west. Upon entering the castle, he requested an immediate audience with his lord.
----------
"If you wish to tell me of your exploits, you can tell everyone tonight in the Great Hall." Lord Bernard joked as he greeted Captain Symon, slapping his Captain of the Guard on the shoulder.
"My Lord, I bring troubling news." The seriousness in his captain's voice broke Lord Bernard's jovial mood. "Lord, we took prisoners. They are stark-raving mad, utterly without reason."
"They are savages. What would you expect?" Lord Bernard interrupted dismissively as he searched the table for a clean wine goblet.
"No, my Lord, this was different." The young lord had learned to trust the intuition of the commander of his house's army, just as his father had done. He sat in a chair and bid the captain to continue.
What his captain told his lord was the stuff of children's stories or the tale of a drunk fool. A giant of incomprehensible size had set upon the tribesmen's village. The tribe had retreated to their hill fort but this monstrous foe had simply stepped over the ramparts and laid waste to everyone and everything inside. Only the warriors, later captured during Captain Symon's raid, had escaped.
Rumors of giants living beyond The Wall to the north were only that; rumors. But even if such rumors were true, what the captured warriors described was far beyond any descriptions of giants that dwelt beyond the wall.
"There's more," the captain continued. "She..."
"She?" Lord Bernard interrupted.
"Yes," Captain Symon paused. Lord Bernard said nothing more, gesturing impatiently for his captain to continue.
"She had dragons with her...three dragons."
----------
Lord Bernard told his captain to tell no one else about the prisoner's story. He had enough problems and did not wish to add wild and speculative fantasies about giants, fairies, or other storybook creatures to that list. Later, after some wine, the lord decided that the story was simply the ravings of savage hill men who were no better than wildlings.
Two days after the captain had given his report, Lord Bernard had completely forgotten about the ridiculous story about the giantess and her dragons. He had chosen to take his evening meal in his private quarters. Reaching for his wine, he paused, his fingers and hand frozen over the goblet as he beheld the strangest thing: ripples. The surface of his wine had been disturbed, tiny waves spreading out from the cup's center. Blinking, he dismissed the odd occurrence and reached for his drink again. Once more, when his fingers almost touched the goblet he saw ripples spread across the wine's surface. This time, Lord Bernard had also felt a slight ground tremor.
"MY LORD!" The lord's steward burst into the room. He was pale and trembling with fear. Lord Bernard looked up at him expectantly but the steward stood frozen, his mouth agape.
"Out with it!" The lord stood up without heed to the table, sending it tumbling. Not getting anywhere with his hapless steward, he stormed past him and left the room.
It wasn't an earthquake, Lord Bernard had experienced those before. Whatever was happening was rhythmic. It reminded him of the reverberations of war drums he had heard in his youth. He pushed past panicking servants until he reached the castle's battlements. It was from behind the crenelated top of the curtain wall that he saw her approaching.
----------
She stood over 450ft in height. Seeing her silver-white hair, Lord Bernard recognized her as a Targaryen. Each of her footfalls was causing the castle's stones to vibrate. He could see dragons as well, only two were circling her at the level of her shoulders. Doubtless, he knew, the third was not far away.
"Seven hells!" The lord cursed under his breath. He could see that Captain Symon was on the south tower, readying the mangonel. A powerful counter-siege weapon, it was able to throw stones or wildfire filled vessels over 300 yards. It could decimate formations of infantry and enemy siege works when the castle was under attack. The mangonel's usefulness against this particular threat would be dubious at best.
As he watched the Targaryen titan draw ever nearer, the elderly Maester Valens made his presence known.
"My Lord...I see Ravensburg preparing for war, but are you sure war is coming to Ravensburg? Perhaps you should ascertain her intentions." Saying his peace, the old maester turned from the lord.
"Valens!" The maester turned and looked at his young lord patiently with tired eyes. "What sort of witchery is this?" As he asked his question in desperation, Lord Bernard was pointing over his shoulder indicating the approaching colossus.
Maester Valens, seemingly unconcerned, looked past Lord Bernard at the giantess and sighed.
"At this point, my lord, does it really matter?" Not waiting for a response, Maester Valens turned once more and disappeared into the darkness of the castle's interior.
Lord Bernard had not considered any other option besides conflict. Looking to his soldiers, he could see their barely concealed terror. He would heed his maester's council. The Lord of Ravenburg would parley.
----------
Ser Johan FitzMartin was a Knight of the Vale, master swordsman, and a dear friend of the lord's late father. Ser Johan had insisted, despite Lord Bernard's objections, that he alone would carry the banner of truce to the Targaryen at the gates. As the portcullis was raised, Lord Bernard reached up and put his hand on Ser Johan's saddle.
"Come back safe Johan, I will need you." The young lord said to the old knight in earnest. Ser Johan smiled down at the son of his closest friend but said nothing. He offered his hand to the young man in farewell. The garrison watched from the battlements as the lone knight rode from the castle, the banner of truce fluttering in the wind behind him.
The towering colossus had halted 500yrds in front of Ravensburg's high walls. Her feet planted at shoulder width, she stood directly facing the oncoming rider and waited. The two dragons that Lord Bernard had seen earlier were perched on her shoulders, glaring hungrily at the approaching knight. From his position on the castle wall, Lord Bernard could see that Ser Johan had stopped just short of the giantess, raising his banner high.
"In the name of the Lord of Ravensburg, I bring greetings! Who are you and what is your business in The Vale? My lord offers parley in friendship and peace. What say you?" Ser Johan steadied his frightened horse and waited. The old knight's bravery in the face of the Targaryen giantess was truly awe inspiring; an act of heroism worthy of song. She said nothing, staring down at the insignificant horseman with open disgust. Receiving no reply, Ser Johan addressed the giantess again. "So it is true, Targaryens have no honor!" His display of bravado was impressive if not also brash. He wheeled his horse around and began to gallop back to the castle when he and his horse were seized by the claws of the third dragon, finally making its appearance.
The third dragon flew upwards, depositing the knight in the giantess's awaiting and outstretched open palm. The dragon, still clutching Ser Johan's horse, circled once and then landed in the giantess's other hand. The dragon then began to feast upon the knight's mount. Bringing Ser Johan close to her face, she responded to his query in a thundering voice that could be heard by everyone in the castle.
"I am Daenerys of the House Targaryen, First of My Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Mother of Dragons." As the echoes of her titles died away, she continued: "I have come to Westeros to reclaim what is mine by birthright and what has been taken from me by usurpers and thieves." She leaned in close to the minuscule knight, her face filling the sky above him. "You ask what business I have in the Vale? What impudence!" The force of her voice caused Ser Johan to fall to his knees. "A queen may go wherever she chooses within her kingdom. Word was sent to the lords of The Vale of my arrival in Westeros but not one has paid homage or submitted." Daenerys looked up, now addressing all within the sound of her booming voice. "It is clear to me that your liege lords do not understand the consequences of defying their queen...so an example must be made."
Shrieks of terror erupted from the castle as Daenerys announced Ravensburgs' doom. Ser Johan, speaking for Lord Bernard, stood up and replied.
"We have no love for the Great Houses, idle and weak in their cities with wastlings sitting upon paper thrones! We are not your enemies! I speak for my lord when I say we submit to your overlordship. We will pledge our army to your cause and your service." Ser Johan ceremoniously lowered himself onto one knee and lowered his head in a formal feudal display of submission. Daenerys' roared with laughter at his humble declaration. Ser Johan raised his head in frightened bewilderment.
"What use do I have for an army of insignificant bugs? Daenerys sneered at Ser Johan, still abasing himself on bended knee. Once again, Daenerys looked up and addressed the castle where she knew the true lord would be listening. "I accept your homage and fealty, little lord. The greatest service you can render unto your queen will be as an example to the other Houses of this realm. Your annihilation will demonstrate the futility of resisting me. This is all I require of you."
Daenerys slowly began to twist the wrist of the hand that Ser Johan stood upon, turning her palm steeper and steeper. The veteran knight could do nothing to stop himself as he finally lost purchase on the almost vertical surface and fell backwards, the ground 400ft below hurtling towards him. Daenerys didn't even bother watching the knight's fate, her eyes already fixed on the castle that stood in front of her. One of the dragons that sat on her shoulder, seeing an easy meal, took off and swooped down upon Ser Johan as he fell and caught him in its jaws. Landing back on its enormous perch, the dragon began tearing the still living knight apart and devoured him.
Lord Bernard was speechless. The knight who had been like an uncle to him and a father after his own had passed away was tossed aside by Daenerys like he was nothing. In Ser Johan, Lord Bernard had found a model of bravery, honor, and duty that he desired most to emulate . With the loss of this knight, the Lord of Ravensburg found that he had lost those qualities as well, if he ever had them to begin with. Lord Bernard ran, abandoning the battlements for his private quarters.
"Tobias, the gold...get it! We will need it!" Lord Bernard gave the order to his personal servant. Tobias dutifully went into the lord's antechamber, returning with a large chest. "My wife! You, fetch her and meet us at the bridge!" The servant girl he barked the command at bowed and hurried to the Lady of Ravensburg's chambers.
----------
The mangonel's arm swung, its incendiary payload lofted into a high arc towards the approaching giantess. Two of the clay pots containing the precious wildfire had already struck Daenerys. Each had exploded, spreading eldritch green flames across her body. As the flames died away, Daenerys emerged each time unburnt. Captain Symon could see the futility of continuing. He ordered the siege engine and the south tower abandoned. Making his way through the castle corridors, he ordered every man at arms he came across to follow him.
Ravensburg, he grimly understood, was now a deathtrap and needed to be evacuated. Dust cascaded onto the captain from the shifting rafters above with each earthshaking step Daenerys took that brought her closer. The castle was coming apart, Captain Symon could hear the cries for help from his friends trapped behind collapsed passageways. Those cries were soon drowned out by another sound, even more terrifying; the sound of Daenerys laughing.
----------
A deadly no man's land lay before Ravensburg Castle: 500 yards of open ground engineered to give an attacking force no cover or respite from the fortress's defences. The 400 strong garrison overlooking this ground could easily repel an attack from an army ten times their number.
"Pathetic." Daenerys' voice echoed off the 300 year old castle's stonework. It only took her ten steps to cross the castle's formidable no man's land. As she did so, archers manning the walls began loosing volleys of arrows. The rain of missiles bounced harmlessly off Daenerys' legs and torso, unable to penetrate. Wildfire exploded across her right hip and shoulder, hurled from a catapult sitting atop one of the castle's towers. Its scorching heat and flames were ineffective and ignored by the Targaryen who found fire to be no threat. There was nothing the defenders could do to slow Daenerys' inexorable advance upon their home.
As Daenerys walked, her 'children' took flight. They began circling the castle, snatching archers off the walls at random. These, the dragons either devoured as they flew or released, dropping the unfortunate bowman to their deaths far below. Their actions only compounded the terror and feelings of helplessness the castle inhabitants were experiencing. Death could strike from any direction and in the end, death would take them all.
Seeing the impotence of the concentrated barrage being thrown against her, Daenerys began to laugh.
"Is this it? Is this all the great House of Bernard can offer?" She asked in a mocking tone. Once she reached the castle, Daenerys did not stop. She effortlessly stepped over the fortress's deep moat and 40ft tall curtain wall. The terrified archers atop the wall craned their necks in disbelief and horror as the Targaryen giantess's leg swung over their heads. Her massive foot crashed down into the center of the castle's courtyard. Over a dozen of the castle's defenders disappeared, instantly flattened under her sandal's sole.
Her other foot slammed down next to the first, turning the men who found themselves underneath it into nothing more than red stains. Daenerys now stood within the diminutive castle, its tallest tower not even reaching to her knees. Looking down, the courtyard in which she stood was filled with hundreds of the castle's minuscule inhabitants. They were scurrying like ants around her sandals, desperately running to escape or hide.
The twinkle of fireflies drew Daenerys' attention away from the scene of panic at her feet. Flaming arrows were being loosed at her from outside the castle. These arrows weren't even a nuisance, their microscopic barbs still unable to pierce her skin.
Daenerys turned her attention back to the courtyard below. To her surprise, the foolhardy warriors had mustered the courage to counterattack! While she had been distracted, they had charged her feet as they stood idly in the castle's courtyard. Dozens of men at arms swarmed over her feet and up her ankles, using the straps of her sandals to help them climb ever higher. As they climbed, they began slashing and stabbing at her feet and ankles with both swords and spears.
"Pests!" Daenerys raised her foot and began brushing the crawling vermin off with her hand. The screams of the falling soldiers were cut short as they hit the flagstone pavement 100ft below. She did the same to her other leg, slapping at some of the tenacious warriors as if they were mosquitoes. Seeing the doomed counterattack was now in full route, She planted both feet back down and stood, enjoying the panic and terror of hundreds who still remained within the castle's courtyard.
"Worms, all of you..." Daenerys' sneering voice was the last thing many in the courtyard of Ravensburg ever heard. Her face had turned grim as it loomed above the pandemonium. Daenerys lifted her foot and brought it swifty down onto the screaming masses attempting to flee. She did the same with the other foot. Daenerys continued in this way; raising and dropping her sandal-clad feet within the castle's courtyard as if she were trampling grapes in a wine press.
The flagstone surface of the courtyard was now awash with the blood and the pulped remains of hundreds, crushed mercilessly under Daenerys' soles. Cellars under the castle that had not caved in under the incredible weight standing above now began filling with this horrific and newly created red vintage as it was seeping through cracks in the stone. Those who had sought refuge in these cellars now found themselves literally drowning in the blood of people they had known their whole lives. Trapped with no hope of escape, these cellars became tombs.
The dragons, for their part, seemed to somehow understand their mother's intent. They flew low over the castle walls, knocking those who remained atop them down into the courtyard below. They lucky ones were killed by the fall, the rest were inevitably flattened under the rhythmic action of Daenerys' crushing feet.
Within a matter of only a few minutes, Daenerys was finished. Nothing moved within the courtyard that had now become a grisly open-air charnel house. The walls surrounding the courtyard were deserted and well. She had seen many of the castle's inhabitants flee into the Great Hall, doubtlessly still cowering inside.
The castle's Great Hall was by far the largest structure within Ravensburg Castle. Looking down at it, Daenerys imagined the feasts and parties the hall must have seen over it's long history. All of that was about to end. Lifting her foot high above the Great Hall's roof, she brought it down slowly, savoring the spectacle of destruction as wood splintered and stone burst as the pressure she applied increased.
The hall's enormous roof collapsed, falling onto the exquisitely tiled floor below. Those hiding within the Great Hall not killed by the falling debris of the roof looked up fearfully. Daenerys was peering down at them, her face filling the space where the roof once hung. Her face was a mix of playful curiosity and sinister malevolence. Screams erupted inside the Great Hall, now open to the sky, as Daenerys' enormous grasping hand reached inside.
----------
"Don't look back, just run!" Lord Bernard was ushering his wife, The Lady Bernard, across the wooden bridge that spanned the castle's moat. She had completely broken down under the stress of this impossible situation, helpless and sobbing uncontrollably since being escorted from her private quarters. A few steps behind the lord and lady, Tobias the servant followed breathlessly. He was carrying an ornate wooden chest filled with gold. Lord Bernard would need this treasure to begin anew.
The lord's plan was to hire a ship that would take him, his wife, and most importantly his wealth across the Narrow Sea to Essos. There he would be able to set himself up comfortably in Braavos or one of the other free cities. If he could not escape to Essos, Lord Bernard would travel south to the Principality of Dorne. What was most important for the lord was to put as much distance between himself and that Targaryen monster as possible!
Crossing the bridge, Lord Bernard saw Captain Symon. The captain was still alive and commanding a dozen archers. These bowmen were loosing volley after volley of flaming arrows at the Targaryen giantess who now stood within the castle. The Captain was grim yet was displaying a level of bravery and determination that was keeping this small remnant of the army from simply fleeing into the hills. In the captain's face, Lord Bernard could see both his father and Ser Johan. In that moment, Lord Bernard both hated Captain Symon and wanted to hide from him in shame.
From behind, Lord Bernard heard a terrific crash. Not stopping, he looked over his shoulder. Daenerys had stepped on the roof of the Great Hall, collapsing it. She was now bending over the hall and reaching inside! Lord Bernard was terrified by what he saw but he could not make himself look away. Lifting her hand out of the ruins, the Targaryen giantess held within her grasp a dozen or more people! He could see arms and legs flailing between her clenched fingers. They were still alive! To the lord's horror, Daenerys brought her hand up to her mouth. Pouring them inside, she closed her mouth and swallowed!
As Daenerys reached back into the Great Hall to search for more survivors, Lord Bernard finally tore his eyes away. As he did so, his eyes met those of Captain Symon. The Captain simply stared at him for a brief moment but said nothing, his eyes returning to his remaining men and the hopeless resistance he was waging. Captain Symon's eyes had seen everything. They had not just seen the lord and lady with their treasure abandoning their subjects but also Lord Bernard's failure to protect those subjects or to act as the leader he had sworn to be. Through Captain Symon's eyes, Lord Bernard saw his father looking disappointingly at him. Not only was it his father looking through the captain's eyes, but every member of his family who held the title of Lord Bernard going back 300 years. All of their eyes were upon him and they all found him guilty.
As the head of a noble house, Lord Bernard was well within his right to have Captain Symon flogged for that perceived look of insolence. But Phillip Bernard realized he was never the Lord of Ravensburg. That man, the true lord, was standing before him, resolute and undaunted with a handful of archers against an unstoppable foe.
Phillip Bernard, formerly Lord Bernard of Ravensburg, his wife, and his servant slipped away into the growing darkness.
---------
Phillip was standing over his wife. After three hours of being dragged by her husband through the woods without pause she had finally given up, despondent with grief and unwilling to move any further. In the distance, a column of smoke could be seen rising above the treeline. It was the funeral pyre of Ravensburg. Phillip said nothing to his wife as she lay prostrate in the leaves. Finally, he gestured for Tobias to continue. The two men walked on, leaving the Lady of Ravensburg to her fate.
As dawn broke the next day, Phillip roused Tobias. Phillip had not slept. Captain Symon's eyes kept him awake. The two dispossessed men were about to begin their journey to the harbor in Saltpan when a shadow moved over them both.
When phillip awoke from his unconsciousness, his eyes beheld a landscape moving under him far below! Quickly looking around, he found himself gripped in the claws of a dragon. Tobias, still clutching the chest, was held in the dragon's other clawed forefoot. Phillip started to scream. After some time, he stopped, realizing that if the dragon wished him dead he would already be so. As the dragon's flight crested a hill, Phillip finally saw where it was taking them. Phillip resumed screaming.
----------
The dragon deposited both Phillip and his dutiful servant in the awaiting and outstretched open palm of the Targaryen giantess. Taking off, it flew in a wide lazy circle before finally coming to rest, perching on Daenerys' shoulder.
Daenerys was staring down at him, she was silent but her face was filled with disdain. Standing up, Phillip immediately drew his dagger and, with a trembling hand, pointed it at the face looming far above him. She did not respond to his provocation, her face remained unchanged as if made of stone.
"I am Lord Phillip Bernard of the House Bernard...Lord of Ravensburg." Phillip dropped the dagger and looked about nervously. He could see that Daenerys was standing on an enormous pile of crushed stone. On closer examination, Phillip realized that the pile of rubble on which she stood triumphantly was, in fact, all that remained of Ravensburg Castle. It had been pulverized by Daenerys so completely that he had not recognized it as the place he had lived his entire life.
"I...I have gold," he gestured to the chest as Tobias, still clutching it, got to his feet. Daenerys did not respond. Suddenly, her other hand was above them both! Daenerys' thumb and forefinger came down onto the hapless servant, seizing him and his chest in their grip and raising them up next to her face. Daenerys did not look at what she held in her fingers, her eyes stayed locked on Phillip. Her look of disdain bore into him. "Yes! It's yours! Just please let me go!" The silence after Phillip spoke seemed to go on forever, he could only stare up at the colossal face that was regarding him so cruelly. Still staring at Phillip, Daenerys began rubbing the two fingers holding Tobias and the gold together. This simple action on her part crushed and tore Phillip's servant apart. The chest of gold was also smashed, Phillip could see the glint of coins raining down from those massive fingers along with what was left of Tobias. Daenerys finally spoke:
"What I did here, destroying your castle as if it were made of sand, killing your men like helpless vermin...it means nothing."
Although almost blinded by terror, Phillip's mind still functioned.
"Unless," Phillip spoke, finishing Daenerys' thought, "someone survived to tell others what had happened here." The hint of a smile crossed Daenerys' lips.
"Go tell the other lords of The Vale what I have done. If I do not have their total submission in five days, their fate shall be far worse." The hint of the smile Daenerys wore disappeared. "Do not stray from my errand, little lord. My children will be watching you." Daenerys turned her cheek as the dragon that delivered Phillip nuzzled her. Her face turned back to the tiny man in her palm. "If you do, they will bring you back to me and I will not be forgiving." As she said this, she finally looked at the two fingers still raised next to her face, idly examining the blood staining them. Her eyes flicked back to Phillip, her look causing him to stumble backwards and almost fall.
Daenerys said nothing more to Phillip. She lowered her palm to the ground. Stepping off, he silently began walking away and up the road that passed next to his castle. Able to see the grayish white stone rubble of his former home up close, Phillip noticed a different color. Interspersed throughout the broken stones was the rusty raw umber of dried blood.
Phillip Bernard, the little lord, passed like a ghost over the hill and up mountain pass into the lands of the Vale.