The Path to Freedom, a HOTD Fanfic

Chapter 1

Criston Cole was again on the battlefield. He had long forgotten the excitement, the fear, the rage that flowed through him when he fought his enemies. But on this night, he was welcoming an old friend.

It was as if the bloodlust never left him.

The feeling of bones crushing under his hands. The way they splintered and cracked as his knuckles dug harder, and harder. The hot blood staining his gloves and seeping in his skin. Cole had forgotten this part of him. He buried it the day he chose honor before everything.  Before he became a knight.

The demon had woken once again, infecting the blood in his veins, filling his mind, traveling down to the fingers that gripped whatever bits of flesh were left.

He froze when the music had stopped. He had reawoken as he felt the hundreds of eyes bearing down on him. The tapping of shoes on the dance floor ceased. All was silent.  All eyes were on him.

Cole, the man, had returned. And he had been horrified by what he had done.

His memory became hazy, forgetting much other than a right hook landing on Laenor Valeryon. A rush of men began to attack each other, using Cole's outburst simply as a reason to shed blood.

Cole did not know how he escaped unannounced. He kept going, stumbling along the hall, like a lost child. He was disengaged with reality, feeling nothing but deep, painful shame. Cole thought he had shed that part of him after the incursions. He lied to himself that he left that devil in the battlefield when he was knighted.

He realized tonight, that he was always that devil.

Cole would not let the king execute him. He didn't deserve an honorable death.

He stood in the godwood, looking up at the at the great oak.  On beautiful nights like these, the princess and him sat among the stars, sharing stories of the constellations. He remembered her in this place during the day, tormenting the bard with the same, tired ballad of Princess Nymeria. Those were the few times he saw her at peace. Those days she truly looked like a maiden.

The Rhaenyra of today was a monster. Just like him.

Cole dropped to his knees, disrobing his now filthy white cloak. He unbuckled his long sword, saying his goodbye as he gently laid it to the ground.

Clang.

Under the dragons eye...

The ceremony had surely begun by now. Was she happy with her decision? He wondered how quiet the words would escape her lips as she recited her vows.

I am yours and you are mine.

He dreamt of Rhaenyra's voice speaking that vow to him every night.  The reality of her sharing them to another, at that very hour, brought him unbearable pain.

Cole unsheathed the dagger from.  The moonlight flickered on the sharp blade, illuminating the steel.

He raised it to his chest.

A shrill scream filled the air.

———

Cole's shoulder slammed into the ground as a great force suddenly knocked him over. A stranger had jumped him, pinning his arms to reach for the dagger. While he was caught by surprise, Cole quickly surmised that this foe was no match for him. Cole gave a heavy push as the foreign hand gripped the blade of his dagger.  Cole felt blood hit his face as his assailant unceremoniously flung to the ground.

Cole sat up, and his mouth dropped.

Rhaenyra sat up, groaning.  The white and gold of her wedding dress was stained with dirt and blood. Her hair, previously styled up in elaborate braids, was now loose and disheveled. Her left palm was cut open, but she paid no mind to the wound.  Her attention turned back to Cole, her eyes ablaze with a rage he had never seen.