Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 49 - Reinforcements vs Rebels

Jon Stark glances over his shoulder to see the men he and Fandral of Asgard are returning to Kings Landing with. Queen Daenerys will be pleased by the number. He knows the next thing they will have to do is send ravens to the North to summon more families from there. The Starks definitely need to contribute. What with Sansa being married to the loyal Hand of the Queen. They also need to summon men from the Eyrie. And... according to Loki, the Wildlings. Jon sighed as he thought about calling on his old friend, Tormund Giantsbane, to sacrifice more of his people for this country. Loki had given good reasons why, but Jon was still in denial. "You're thinking loudly," Fandral commented and Jon looked at him. 

"We have many men with us, but not enough. Daenerys will want all physical forces of this devil crushed decisively. Then, we will only have this Surtur ourselves," Jon answered.

"So... you're more worried about dealing with the henchman than their leader?" Fandral queried, genuinely wondering. "Surtur is the main challenge, and only people with the power of Loki and Thor can hope to defeat him." Jon smiled as he looked at Fandral.

"I think you underestimate us 'normal' people. Our queen has tamed a dragon and cannot be touched by fire. Even us Starks have a special connection with the beasts of our house unlike any other. We are not gods like Loki or your Thor, but we are not weak," Jon said. Fandral shook his head and gave the young Stark a small smile.

"Nay, noble son. You are not weak," he whispered, more to himself than to anybody else. Jon seemed satisfied that he had made his point and his eyes went back to focusing on the road ahead of them. Fandral could not quite pinpoint when the feeling started to niggle in the back of his brain, but when it did, his head was on a swivel. 

Jon saw him and asked, "What is it?"

"Something is wrong," was all Fandral could say as the path ahead of them suddenly sparked to life. Curling flames exploded before them and the horses reared, screaming in fear. The men all took up defensive positions instantly, and a good thing too.

"Shields up!" Lyanna Mormont ordered as arrows came whistling from the foliage. She was pulled down from her horse and concealed behind her men. Fandral turned and watched as Jon's horse rose up on its hind legs in fright and he fell to the ground.

"Stark!" he shouted as he quickly got off his own horse. He had just arrived when a dark shadow detached itself from the trees. Fandral raised his sword and just blocked the phantom weapon. Jon sprang back up, his own blade drawn.

"Where's your master?" the shadow asked, and Fandral remembered that this being was Petyr Baelish, an enemy of Loki's.

"He's not my master; he's my brother-in-law, and he's off doing his own thing as usual," Jon retorted. Fandral wanted to compliment him for his quick response, but could not really, given their current circumstances. 

"He's not your brother-in-law. He's so much more than that," Petyr Baelish said as he also conjured up a whip. "And, he's not here to save you now." The whip lashed out and Jon rolled away to avoid getting slashed. Fandral parried the strikes from Baelish's sword and drew a dagger from his belt, swinging that at the phantom. Somehow, Petyr Baelish was able to successfully block both their attacks, and even land a few blows of his own. When he was withdrawing the whip after attempting to hit Jon again, the recoil struck Fandral across the face, and felled him to the ground.

"Fandral!" Jon cried as he sprang forward, but a sudden ache in his skull caused him to fall to his knees. "What... sorcery?" he growled as he pressed a gloved hand to his temple.

Jon Stark! If you complain while I'm the one in labor with your child, I will kill you myself! Ygritte's voice screamed in his head. Jon realized that his wife was about to give birth to their second baby, and this was the psychic link Loki had established between the two of them. 

"I'll be there soon, my love," he whispered, but that was when the whip coiled around his throat and pulled him back to the ground. Jon groaned as a foot was placed on his chest. 

"You won't be seeing anyone. Whilst your protector is otherwise engaged with my master, I will deal with you. The Targaryen line will fall, starting with the three who have the strongest blood link," Petyr Baelish said as he raised his sword. Jon's eyes widened, but that was before he felt a powerful pull that seemed to reach in and touch his soul.

"What the-?!" he asked, before he suddenly vanished from before Baelish's eyes. Petyr Baelish spun around, as if he expected Loki to somehow appear and laugh at him for thinking he would make killing Jon Stark easy. But, he was nowhere in sight.

"Damn you!" Petyr Baelish bellowed. That was the opening Fandral needed to land a blow between his shoulders. Baelish hissed and turned on Fandral stabbing him with his own sword. Fandral had had many weapons wound him in his long life, but none felt like this. It felt as if the dark magic that Baelish possessed was sucking the life from his body. Suddenly, Baelish got another sword stuck in him and this one caused him to retreat. As his shadow vanished, Fandral saw his rescuer was none other than Lyanna Mormont. Her sword was stained red with the blood of men, but it was untouched by her encounter with Baelish. 

"Can you ride, Outlander?" she queried, holding her hand out to him.

"Even if I couldn't stand up, you wouldn't be able to get me to my feet," he teased lightly. She rolled her eyes and called over one of her men.

"Get him up and on his horse. Once that demon left, the flesh and blood soldiers fled as well. We will not pursue!" Lyanna Mormont ordered and all the men turned to her. "We will continue on to Kings Landing as commanded. Understood?" 

"Aye!" they all shouted as they quickly gathered their wounded and their dead. Lyanna turned back to Fandral as one of her men quickly wrapped his injury and put him on the back of a horse. 

"Where is Jon Stark?" she asked. Fandral shrugged.

"I don't know. He vanished before Petyr Baelish could kill him. Some kind of magic, and if I had to guess, it would be your Hand's doing," Fandral answered. Surprisingly, Lyanna Mormont took his response in stride and simply nodded. She climbed onto the back of her horse and glanced over her shoulder to see the men all lined up behind her. Her men were relatively unscathed, but she was unsure about the others. Since they did not know if the shadow man and his soldiers would return, she did not have time for a report. She waved one of her subordinates over and he bowed his head.

"Go back through the line and speak with the soldiers of the other houses. I want a list of their wounded and dead. They will need burying when we make camp," Lyanna said. The man rode down the line to fulfill the wishes of his lady. Fandral gripped the saddle and reins of his horse in attempt to make himself forget the pain he was in. A blazing, searing pain that scorched the blood in his veins. Lyanna Mormont looked at him again, and saw his pale and sweaty face. "Hold on, Ser Dashing. Hold on." He gave her a weak smile as they started to march.