What if Ser Barristan Pledged Himself to Robb Stark

What if Sir Barristan pledged himself to Rob Stark? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. Your grace. The council has determined that Sir Jaime Lannister would take your place as Lord Commander of the King's Guard. A man who profaneed his blade with the blood of the king he had sworn to defend. Careful, sir. I am a knight. I shall die. A night, a naked knight. Apparently, [Music] even now I can cut through the five of you like carving a cake. Here for it, melt it down and add it to the others. Sir Barristan strides out of the hall, his head held high, but his mind troubled. Though he speaks boldly, he knows he is in a difficult position. He is now a knight without a lord to serve. Worse, one who had just made an enemy of the king. The Lord Commander of the king's guard had seen Joffrey grow up and knew what kind of boy he was, not the type who takes insults lying down, much less than his mother. His fears are proven true when a group of gold cloaks moves to arrest him. Yet their mistake is assuming he is helpless without his sword. Though unarmored and unarmed, he managed to cut down two with his dagger and ride down a third before they could shut the gates. As he leaves the city, the old knight considers his options. He knows that there will be war. He can smell it in the air. Joffrey's rise will not be accepted by all, least of all the Starks. A pang of guilt hits him in the chest, worse than any below the Lannister men managed to land. Ned Stark was not as fortunate as he was. He is still rotting in a dungeon in the Red Keep and for what? Carrying out the king's commands. He had read it himself. He recognized Robert's handwriting. Though they claimed the king was delirious, his words spoke otherwise. The penmanship was clean, not made by a man who could hardly hold a quill. The king knew what he was signing off on. And yet, what do his words matter now? The king is dead, and another has taken his place. To that, he wonders where he fits into this new regime. And as he thinks, he steers his horse to the Riverlands, where he hears the Northmen are marching. The journey is difficult as he soon learns that the Lannisters are also there in strength. Their patrols fill the main roads and towns while Briggins are prowling the forests looking for someone to rob. The old knight sheds his armor and grows his beard, hoping to disguise himself. While he could blend in with the flow of refugees marching along the king's road, he is going in the wrong direction towards the fight. It takes weeks of travel and more close calls than he dared to count. But at least he arrives in the Riverrun, where he is greeted by surprising news. He had expected a long, hard-fought battle for control of the region. But in a matter of weeks, the young Stark Lord had managed to completely reverse the tide, smashing the Westerland army, besieging Riverrun and bottling Taiwan Lannister up. By the time he arrives, he sees the blue trout of House Tully flapping defiantly along the battlements. Beside it is the direwolf of the Starks. When he makes his way inside, he finds the great hall filled with Northmen and riverlords. He had fought against and alongside many of these men. But the one who gets his attention is Rob Stark, who sits at top the seat with a crown top his head. He looks more like a king than Joffrey ever did. All the men turn to face him when he arrives, including Rob Stark, who beckons him to speak his business. I come to offer condolences, your grace, for the death of Ned Stark. I heard of his execution while traveling here. Words cannot express my grief for it. There has never been a man less deserving of the fate that had befallen him. But he does not receive a warm reception. There are no murmurss of agreement or chance for Ned's name. The room remains silent as the Northmen regard him wearily, distrustfully. And whose condolences are you giving? Yours or the Lannisters? I speak for no man but myself, your grace. I am no longer in the service of the Iron Throne. The Lannisters have seen fit to dismiss me from service. That is why I am here now, to offer my services to you as a knight. I wish to aid you in your cause for the sake of Ned Stark, who had served the realm faithfully and dutifully. And yet he died, Sir Barristan, executed as a traitor. They say that you were there when he was betrayed. I was, but I swear I had not raised a blade against him. Neither did you raise it in his defense. They call you so barrist in the bold. Yet there was nothing bold about you then. Your grace, please. You know of my skill with a blade. Surely you can see how I might help you in this cause. I admit I failed Ned Stark, but that is why I serve you now at your knight. I This is not the whole for cravens. You'd be lucky to work as a stable hand here. The great Jon speaks truly. I have heard of your skill with a blade, but that is meaningless if you're unwilling to draw it. If you truly see me fit to care for your house, then I shall be honored to take that responsibility. No. The hall goes silent as Edmure steps forward. He now approaches the center of the room and places a hand on the knight's shoulder. All eyes are on him as they listen to what he has to say. I agree with all of you that Sir Barrison has done how Stark a great wrong. But I also know him as a man of principle and honor. I am certain he will do everything he can to redeem himself. More importantly, his name still echoes through the seven kingdoms. That reputation gives legitimacy to your cause. Do not simply consider what he has done. Your grace, consider what he may do for you now. Very well, Sir Barristan. I shall be glad to take you under my service. Thank you, your grace. I will not let you down. The old knight bends the knee and lays his captured long sword at his feet, declaring him king of the north. With that, the meeting is adjourned and the Northmen leave. Rob's decision is enough to pacify some like great John, Jason Mallister, and Galbert Glover. Others are more suspicious like Rickard Karstark and Jonas Bracken, but only Catelyn stops to speak with him. I hope you understand this, Sir Barristan. My son's life matters far more than your honor. With that, she leaves. Rob remains only to inform him of their current situation. They had defeated Jaime Lannister and captured him in the whispering woods. However, Tywin Lannister remains at large. And worst of all, the two Baratheon brothers have both crowned themselves. In the meantime, their focus is on securing the Riverlands from the remaining Lannisters. Many Riverlords are already departing to do this, and Sir Barristan is tasked with helping them. While he is given a small contingent of troops, he is not treated as one of the commanding officers, just one of many captains of this army. It stings a little to Sir Barristan, but he understands their distrust. It does not stop him from joining the war effort in earnest. With Tywin remaining in Harrenhal and Rob planning on marching west, Sir Barristan focuses on retaking the Riverland castles west of the Red Fork to ensure that Tywin cannot easily resupply his army. The old knight soon proves himself to be a great asset in the war. In Pink Maiden, he is the first man over the walls, leading the assault personally and slaying the Lannister captain in command. At Adera, he helps organize a night assault that aids Lord Norbert in reclaiming his seat. and he fights in a dozen skirmishes and lesser battles, helping clear roads, retake villages, and ambushing Lannister convoys aiming to support Taiwan's war effort. As he wins these victories, the North is sure to capitalize on these efforts. While Lord Bolton is off commanding the host to the east, he sees the potential here and has the phrase spread tales of Sir Barristan's heroism while serving Rob Stark. They hire singers and murmurss to talk about the glory he has won, to craft songs and performances, and that display his bravery. In the Riverlands, they serve as a sign of hope, knowing that one of the greatest knights is fighting for them, but they also go beyond. He has these singers travel to the Crownlands, Stormlands, and Reach, where the houses remain away from the fighting. Though none of the men there have ever entered the war, older lords recall fighting alongside the Old Knight, while young fighters dream of the opportunity to fight with him now. They were not exaggerating when they said his name lends weight to Rob's cause. This isn't even just with his fighting skills. While he is embarrassed to admit his incitement during the arrest of Ned Stark, he reluctantly relays this information to Edmure, who uses it in his stories and songs. He admits that he had allowed Ned Stark to be arrested, but that it was his greatest regret. Joffrey, dismissing him, now looks even more foolish, as he looks like both a usurper and a madman for dismissing one of his greatest knights, who now serves his sworn foe. When he returns to Riverrun, he is greeted with cheers and celebrations from the villagers. He arrived without fanfare and unknown to the people. But now that they know one of the realm's greatest heroes is fighting alongside them, they rush out to greet him. Some thank him and offer words of kindness or even food to the soldiers fighting in the war. In Riverrun, even some of the lordlings there have warmed up to see him. They offer some thanks to him, which Sir Barristan accepts, but his mind is elsewhere. He waves them off and makes his way down to the dungeons to meet with Sir Jaime. The knight is chained to a wall in one of the dark cells, leaving him barely able to move around. But none of that breaks his spirit as he chuckles. I wasn't expecting visitors today, much less you, Lord Commander. I am not the Lord Commander. Apparently, the king saw fit to grant that title to you. Congratulations, I suppose. Try not to drive your sword into this king. I'll do my best, but it seems like this new king is a handful. I suppose that won't be a problem for you, Subarin, now that you're here. Was it difficult being dismissed like that? After all those years of service, no, it wasn't. I watched Joffrey grow up. I knew he would become an unworthy king. In truth, it was a blessing. And yet, you would have been prepared to serve him. I would have done my duty unlike you, Sir Jaime. Yes, yes, it is always another's fault. Tell me, Sir Barristan, they have long called you the bold, but it seems to me you are a pawn like any other. Watch your tongue, King Slayer. It's true. Always being moved around, doing what others tell you. Good or evil, you do it because you are commanded to. Call me the king slayer all you like, but know this. At least at the end of the day, I acted based on what I believed was right. Now, if you have nothing more to discuss with me, I would like to rest. Barrist and the bold can only stare in shock as he is dismissed like this. But in truth, there is nothing he can do but dip his head and march back out to the main hall to await his next assignment. That assignment comes from Rob Stark directly before he departs for the Westerlands. Instead of joining his army to attack the Lannisters directly, Sir Barristan is to instead accompanies Catelyn Stark south to appeal to Renley for aid. With the Reach and the Stormlands rallying to his side, he should have a massive army. And as a Stormlander himself, many of his knights look up to Barriston, and this might sway Renley to see reason. It is far from the glorious battle that the old knight had wished for, but he accepts it nonetheless. As they ride to the Stormlands, they find the massive army has indeed mobilized. But rather than marching straight to war, they advance at a snail's pace. Happy to enjoy the riches of the Reach on their way to war. The reason for this slow pace is Renley's desire to starve out the capital, as well as to host feasts and turnies for his men to get their blood pumping. By the time the Stark delegation arrives, the Baratheon army has not even reached the Stormlands and remains encamped in Bitterbridge. Yet, when they arrive, the army is greeted with much fanfare, and that is thanks to Sir Barristan. Though he had not won any great victories in this war, his name still resounds across the seven kingdoms, and both young knights and older lordlings throw themselves to honor him. Sir Barristan himself accepts these in silence, but looks over at the crowd and rubs his chin. He is honestly surprised to see so many people rally to Renley's side, knowing that he is probably the weakest claim. They offer lavish gifts and praise, but there is also a silent unease amongst the crowd as they see him wearing the cloak with the colors of House Stark, and an unspoken question echoes across the army. Why had he chosen to join the Starks and not his countrymen? The wonder only grows as Lady Catelyn reads out the terms of their alliance. If Renley agrees to grant the North and Riverlands independence, then they shall help him destroy the Lannisters and anyone else who challenges their rule. Additionally, they shall offer him tribute for a certain amount of time to compensate for the loss of these kingdoms. There is silence as Renley considers this offer, and then he begins laughing. Well, there is no doubt that the young wolf is bold with his actions, presenting me with terms like these. However, they are also unacceptable. When I crowned myself in High Garden, I was proclaimed ruler of the seven kingdoms. Ruler of the six kingdoms does not have the same ring, does it? My son offers you a generous deal, Lord Remley. Need I remind you that though he promises aid in this war, in truth, he has been doing all the fighting while you sit here feasting. He fights for his agenda, for his kingdom, not mine. Why would I count that a favor? Would you prefer to be king of nothing, your grace? Though you have placed a crown upon your head, that does not make you a king. There are rumors I have heard, that Joffrey is not from Robert's loins. Yet, even if that were true, then Stannis shall be the true heir, and after him Shireen, and all of that is assuming these are more than rumors, in which case you are even further behind succession, and that you are just a usurper." A gasp ripples across the crowds. Many begin to mutter angrily. A few even shout at the old knight, calling him a liar and a fraud. Some of them even challenge him to say that with steel in his hands. Barristan says nothing but casually lays a hand on his long sword and the room goes silent once more. Renley continues to smile, but there is something else in his eyes. A challenge. We came here under a peace banner. We are not here to trade blows. And what do you call your king? Is he not a usurper as well? Not just me, but to Joffrey or Stannis or whoever you think should rule perhaps. But I failed his father, and I owe it to avenge him. I fight for justice. for justice. Is that what the Lannisters give? I heard your testimony about what happened when they took over. Where is the justice in betraying Ned Stark? Where is the justice in slaughtering his men on the floor of the throne room and keeping his daughters prisoner? You were there and you did nothing. And you weren't, Lord Renley. They say you fled in the dead of night, abandoning Lord Stark to his fate. If you cared so much for justice, why did you not stand with him on that day? Because I knew what would happen if I stayed. I knew that it would have been my head on a pike if I remained. Besides, it is not as if I had any duty to protect Ned Stark. No. Are you not a knight, sir? Did we not take the same vows when we are anointed with the seven oils? In the name of the warrior, we are charged to be brave. In the name of the father, we are charged to be just. In the name of the mother, we were charged to defend the young and innocent. Where was that then? And where is it now? All I see is a boy playing king while a man a decade his junior risks everything on the battlefield. All I see are grasping old men and green boys who sit here enjoying the sounds of their own voices while refusing to take up arms and be true knights. With that, the room goes silent. And then something new crosses the men's face. Shame. Even amongst the Tyrells, they can hardly look at the old knight. Renley himself is speechless, unable to truly question what he says, and he can sense the shift in the air. His words have their effect, and they now begin negotiating. Truly negotiating with terms that are seriously considered. Renley offers to allow Northern Independence. It is a difficult pill to swallow, so he demands multiple concessions to make it easier. He doubles the tribute required of them, demands preferential treatment for trading rights, access to roads, and the North cannot expect aid during winter. All of these terms are accepted and at last they can move forward. But rather than march to King's Landing, they soon find another threat as Stannis suddenly appears and lays siege to Storm's End, forcing them to redirect their army to confront him. Clouds hang low over the sea and seabirds wheel silently above the cliffs. Below them, Stannis Baratheon's camp sprawls across the rocky ground like a small gray beast, disciplined, silent, watchful. Banners of the crown stag hang limp in the still air and the low clink of armor echoes through the ranks. Catelyn Stark rides ahead, her hood drawn, her face unreadable. Beside her, Sir Barristan Selme sits straight in his saddle, white cloak heavy with sea mist, eyes fixed on the ancient fortress ahead. He has not spoken since dawn. Renley soon joins them, laughing and showing up late. They are received without pomp. Davos Seaworth meets them at the edge of the camp, offering a nod and little else. He leads them through a maze of tents, past siege ladders and sharpened stakes until they reach the king's command pavilion. Inside, Stannis Baratheon stands over a table strewn with maps and markers. His eyes, hard as flint, do not waver when they enter. His crown rests on a chair beside him, untouched. Lady Stark, Sir Barristan, brother, speak your purpose. The realm bleeds your grace. Wolves and lions tear it apart while the people suffer. We come not as enemies, but to ask you to turn your strength against the true foe, the Lannisters. Rob Stark does not claim the Iron Throne. He claims only the North and the Rivalence, which was stolen from him. If we must be divided, let us not be at war. The boy calls himself king. That is war. And yet he calls for my aid. your grace. I once swore to your brother and I served him faithfully. I do not come to contest your claim. I came to urge peace before this war devour what little honor remains. Stannis's stare sharpens. He folds his hands behind his back and takes a single step forward. Honor? Yes, that old tune. Saristan Selme, the bold knight, the perfect sword. They sing of your loyalty, of your duty, of how you stood silent while the mad king burned men alive. Of how you fought Robert, then served him while he drank and hoarded and let the lions take the realm in pieces. And now you kneel to a boy who would rip the realm apart in another way. Tell me, sir, do you serve the realm or do you simply serve regret? I followed my vows. I obeyed my king. And where did that obedience lead? Smoke rising from the throne room. Lord Ricard's stark burned in his armor to Brandon strangled by a noose while the court watched. You were there in white steel. Did you move? Did you speak? No. No. And now you speak of justice. You call the boy Stark king and march under his banner, knowing full well what that means. The end of the seven kingdoms. You once served to preserve this realm. Now you helped dismantle it. I serve Rob Stark because I failed his father. I watched Eddard Stark die for telling the truth. I watched as the wolves were slaughtered while the realm closed its eyes. If I have done wrong, I do not ask for forgiveness. But I will not be idle again. Stannis circles the table slowly, then comes to a halt directly in front of him. His eyes are steady, his words like hammer blows. Then let me tell you a truth, Sebastian. You cannot build peace upon a grave, not when you helped dig it. Justice is doing what's right, not what men tell you is right. You serve the Lord of Light or you serve Shadow. There is no third party. Here are my terms. You do not believe that Joffrey is a true king, whether by temperament or by blood. If that is the case, then you will see I have the best claim. I have the experience and the right. Support my claim and I shall allow you to continue serving the Starks as my benamin. As for you, Renley, pledge your swords to me, and I shall accept you as my heir. And here I thought Rob Stark was the daring one. You make all these grand claims of justice and restoration, but what do you have to actually enforce your will, brother? I have four times the men you have here and 20 times when the rest of my army arrives. You might have the experience, but I have the swords. When you can answer me what might compel me to bend the knee to you, I will gladly do so." Davos offers a polite nod as he escorts them out. Outside, the seaw bites harder than before. Fistin stops just beyond the tent, eyes on the gray stone of Storm's End, rising like a tomb. You held your ground. I have stood in many courts. Some were ruled by mad men, some by drunkards, but never one so cold. Do you think he's right? That I'm too late to matter. He doesn't answer. He only turns and walks back into the gathering storm. The next day, they await the battle to commence. The only consolation being that they will not be expected to fight. However, it does not make the situation any less tense. As Renley prepares himself for battle, Catelyn tries to reason with him one final time. Our two houses have always been close. Which is why I am begging you to reconsider this battle. Negotiate a piece with your brothers. Negotiate with Stannis. You heard him out there. I'd have better luck debating the wind. Please bring my terms to your son. I believe we are natural allies. I hope he feels the same. Together, we could end this war in a fortnight. No. Just as Renley's body falls, a group of knights appear and rush at Brienne, believing her to be responsible. They call her a murderous and a traitor. The young woman draws her sword and defends herself, but she is slowly pushed back by the group of men. Sir Barristan watches all of this. A part of him wishes to take Lady Catel an escape while there is still a chance. But he glances towards the young woman, fighting through tears in her eyes against men who throw themselves blindly upon her. His feet remain planted where he is, and then he finds himself back in the mad king's court, watching as Rickard Stark burns. Cursing, he rushes forward and pushes himself in between Brienne and the guards. In a few quick swings, he manages to disarm them and points his sword at them. Enough. We are not Lannisters who murder men without cause. If you believe this woman is guilty, let her stand trial. What is there to discuss? She wields the blade and stands at top his body. Then you have nothing to fear, sir, unless you are so confident that you believe you can challenge me and win. This takes some of the air from Loris's sail. Reluctantly, he orders that Brienne be clamped in irons and told to await trial. In the meantime, the rest of the army is in chaos. Having heard that Renley is dead, many lords cross over to Stannis immediately. Rather than slip into the camp, they gather their forces and secure the food stores and supplies, taking over the camp. Loris, Randall, Tarly, and Lord Rowan gather whatever men they can, barely a fifth of their cavalry, and ride off. Once they're a good distance away, they hold the trial. What initially seems like a certain victory is now thrown into question. Though it may seem obvious, many questions arise. If Brienne wanted Renley dead, why bother helping him dawn his armor before killing him? More importantly, why do it when there were people in the room? Renley and Catelyn had agreed. They had no reason to want him dead. Then there is the matter of his death. The blade punctured his gorg like it was made of butter. Even the mountain could not have done that unless he had a battle axe. While no one believes their claims that there was a shadow assassin, there is at least enough doubt that Brienne was responsible. But that does not matter now. Renley is gone and so is most of their army. This leaves the Tyrells in limbo on what they should do. The old knight looks around at the camp, watching the soldiers all look at one another nervously, watching as they shake under their armor, and their fear shows beneath their helmets. Most of them are so young and have not experienced the true pain of war. This chaos was their first true taste of it. As he passes one young knight, muttering a prayer, he places a hand on his shoulder. The answer is simple. Though the king has fallen, it does not mean our alliance has come to an end. The king has made a pact with us to grant us independence in exchange for our aid. I intend to honor that pact. Then who shall lead us with Renley gone? Who shall we place on the Iron Throne? I am not certain, but that is a question we may answer later once we have the Iron Throne. In the meantime, we must not let this chaos divide us. Hearing those words, the men let out a ragged cheer. The Blackwater stinks of smoke and blood. Charged ships drift aimlessly in the bay. Some split in half, others sink by the stern. Crewmen screaming as green fire still clings to their armor. Flaming corpses bob like driftwood in the surf. And above it all, the red light of Rolar's fires dance on the waves. On the ramparts of King's Landing, the gold cloaks are dead or dying as Dragonstone men rush the ramparts. The ladders are fixed on the wall and fighting back and forth, struggling against the Lannisters. The gate house lies in ruin, split open by rams. Yet the gates are filled with the dead. A testament to the men who have given their lives to claim it. But one of those who remains standing is Stannis Baratheon, who strides through the breach, soot streaking his face. Behind him, horns blow desperately as the rest of his army clashes with the Lannisters. The fight was hard fought as Sir Bryce Karen commands the army against Tywin. Their job is not to break the enemy lines, but to simply hold Tywin off. At several points, the Lannisters manage to break through, including a small column of 100 men under command of Sir Gregor, who manages to exploit a gap in their lines and rides to King's Landing. However, Stormlander Bowman pepper his troops with arrows, reducing their numbers until only half make it. These men are easy prey to the Baratheon assault forces in the city who overwhelm them. With the gate taken, the Goldcloaks begin to break through, throwing their weapons aside and abandoning the city. This leaves only a handful of Lannister men who are swiftly overwhelmed. By nightfall, the red keep belongs to Stannis. Joffrey is dead, slain in the throne room by a Baratheon soldier before the boy could flee. Cersei is dragged out of Maker's Holdfast. Her face wild with grief and whine. Tommen is spared, but placed under guard. The lion's reign ends in a whimper, not a roar. Seeing the banners fall, the Lannister army breaks. Tywin Lannister lies bleeding beneath his horse somewhere in the mud on the battlefield. A flaming arrow had caught the beast in the eye, and in the chaos, the lord of Castle Rock had been thrown and trampled. His bannermanmen had rallied too late. The fire traps meant for Stannis had claimed them instead. News travels fast. When word reaches High Garden, many Tyrell lords flinch, not just from Renley's death, but from the swiftness of Stannis's rise. But Barristan's steady hand keeps their will intact. He rides with Catelyn, speaking personally with the lords, Tarly, Rowan, and others. Rob Stark, still deep in the Westerlands, agrees to pull back from his extended campaign. With Sir Edmir commanding Riverrun and the Tyrell forces recovering control Bitterbridge and the Mander, a plan is drawn. They march south, not to aid Stannis, but to starve him. Stannis stands at top the battlements of King's Landing, his face as stone as ever. Davos at his side, Melisandre in the shadows, murmuring of leeches and King's fire. Though he might have the city, it is on the brink of starvation. The Stormlands are not a fertile region and do not have enough food to sustain them for long. With the Riverlands and the Reach closed off to them, he must import food across the narrow sea. But that is unreliable and expensive. A black banner flutters in the distance. The direwolf of Stark. Behind it, the Golden Rose of Tyrell. Between them, the combined host numbers more than 40,000. The river road is theirs. The King's Road is cut. The Reach cavalry has seized every bridge west of the city. The gold cloaks who survived bend the knee or are executed. They won't storm the walls. No, they'll wait. They'll let the city starve. We shall burn what they eat. Their army burns whatever they cannot take and digs in at King's Landing. With that, the siege has been on for over a month. Summer rains fall hot and heavy on the camps outside King's Landing, but no crops grow. The fields are barren, trampled by marching boots and hooves. Rot creeps in the trenches and the smell of waste and unwashed flesh mingles with the stench of corpses tossed from the city walls. The black water runs black with filth. Each day the horn sounds at dawn. A sort from the city, sometimes cavalry, sometimes foot, always probing, always trying to shatter the encirclement. But Rob's lines hold. The northerners and reachmen have learned to fight as one. Yet they suffer losses, many of them. Estanais seems to have a sixth sense in finding weak points in their armies, and many men give their lives trying to keep the lines stable. However, they do not simply accept these attacks. Many assaults on the city are conducted by these men, aiming to break their lines and force the Baratheonss to break. Siege towers are constructed and burnt. Thousands of men rush forward with ladders to scale the walls that were captured before. And yet, this time, they face hardened veterans. Stannis even tries to raise a relief army, but that is crushed on route. By night, torches dot the hills like dying stars. Scouts report fires within the city, shrinking. Fewer guards on the wall. Hunger naws at the defenders. There are whispers now. People eating rats, dogs, even corpses. On the 64th day, a hole opens in the northern wall. Whether it's sabotage or collapse from months of siege is unclear, but it's the first break. Rob Stark calls for the charge. Steel rings. Horns cry out. Northern spears surge forward. The reach knights in glimmering plate beside them. Over the muddy slope they ride, storming the brereech as Stannis's men rally desperately. Oil and fire down, but this time they do not break. Rob rides at the front, sword raised high. Gray cloak soaked with rain and blood. Inside the camp, Sir Barristan rides out to organize reinforcements. His cloak now patched and signed. But something stops him. The air shifts, the torches dimmed, just as they had in Renley's tent. A black mist slithers across the ground, coiling like smoke that moves with thought. It slides through the enemy lines and cuts through anyone who notices it. Barristan's breath catches. His hand falls to his sword, but he knows steel is useless. He's seen this before. Once a memory slams into him. Ricard Stark screaming, flames climbing his armor. Brandon choking, eyes bulging as he tries to save him. And he had done nothing. Not again. He finds it slithering through an alley, following Rob Stark. As he presses his men deeper, a shadow in the shape of a man, its face that of Stannis Baratheon, breathed in flickering black smoke. It moves towards Rob's position as he stands, protected by Small Jon and Brienne, but both are occupied fighting other enemies. No. He throws himself into its path, sword drawn. Though he knows it will do nothing, the shadow slashes and his blade shatters on contact. Its hand plunges into his side. He feels a surge of cold that nearly drops him to his knees. Then he grabs the nearest torch and drives it into the shadow's chest. It hisses a high keening whale and begins to burn unnaturally, horribly, as if light itself is shredding it from the inside out. Seeing this, Brienne drives her foe back and then seizes the torch, waving it at him and screaming defiantly, "You will not have him." The shadow seems to retreat, slithering back, but they give him no quarter. They drive their torches into it, and the creature howls in a voice not human as it shatters apart. By dawn, Rob stands at top the walls of King's Landing, victorious. The city has fallen. Stannis's banner no longer flies from the Red Keep. Melisandre is gone, vanished into the tunnels beneath the Sept. Some say that they saw her walking into the flames. Others say she turned to smoke. Stannis though fights until the end. He dies at the foot of the throne. Lightbringer still glowing in his hands as he falls. With that, the city is taken and a question arises. Who shall take over his ruler? While the Tyrells push themselves forward, Sir Barristan is still not convinced about that and proposes an idea. Shireen remains Stannis's heir and her mother is a bannerman of theirs. It will allow the Baratheon line to continue and allow the Tyrells to remain influential. With that, he also makes one final decision. To leave Stark service and to guide the new queen. He has fulfilled his duty to grant them justice and now wishes to see the realm set right. As the new queen looks before the Iron Throne, she begins to tear up. Father, why wouldn't you listen? Above all else, Shireen, he was a proud warrior. Remember him as such. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities. and we love exploring them. If you want to accompany us on this journey across the seven kingdoms and beyond, then please like, share, and subscribe to our channel.