The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Queen Of The Seven Kingdoms

Wary, hostile eyes stared from the place he had called home for years, as he led his men into the courtyard through the gate they had just broken through. Loreon had ridden into the Red Keep a thousand times before, but never as one of the commanders in an invading army. In the courtyard, a large number of the defenders were slain, the crows already pecking at their corpses, and the smell of battle hung thick in the air. This castle that hadn't seen so much destruction in fifteen years, not since Tywin Lannister had sacked the city.

Loreon was part of the force sent straight to the keep once the city gates fell. When Lord Tarly had taken a severe arrow wound to the gut, it had been up to him to take over the whole force. It was under his command that the castle had fallen.

He would be lying if he said he wasn't eager for the moment where Cersei Lannister and her vile son were dragged before Stannis. The King would not show either of them a scrap of mercy. Though Loreon knew taking both their heads wasn't the best course of action from a diplomatic perspective, his protests that they should at least send Cersei to the Silent Sisters had been half-hearted at best. Though he would ensure that Tommen was spared. The boy - his cousin, if not his brother - did not deserve to die, even if he spent a lifetime at the Wall or the Citadel. Myrcella too; she could become a septa, or perhaps she might be able to quietly retire to Casterly Rock and marry a minor knight.

Though tempted to leave the visor down on his helm, weary from battle as he was, Loreon ultimately lifted it. They needed to look upon him, to see the face behind the huge figure in the scratched and dented armour. Loreon Storm, Lord of Storm's End rather than King Robert's bastard.

Having already instructed men to search the entire castle, making sure all the defenders were subdued and the false King contained, he allowed himself a moment to take a breath, something he hadn't done since waking up that morning. Too busy thinking, fighting, commanding half an army.

They had won the city, and Stannis' throne. He smiled at the thought, as the reality sunk in for the first time. King's Landing had fallen. Only months ago, that had seemed unthinkable.

It was not without sacrifice. Their fleet on the Blackwater had suffered grievous losses. The use of wildfire was an unforeseen blow, and whoever had thought up that chain blocking the escape back out to sea truly was a cold bastard. One of Ser Davos Seaworth's eight sons had been killed when his ship was blown up, as had many other good men.

Storming the city by land had been relatively simple, in comparison to attacking from the river. The city watch and the meagre remains of the Lannister army left here might have been a more formidable foe if they hadn't been dealing with attacks from half the smallfolk in the city at the time. Lady Bolton's idea had been even more devastating to the Lannisters than the wildfire had been to their ships.

As the city shut its gates in preparation for a siege a couple of weeks ago, Loreon had sent a dozen spies ahead of the army, entering the city with the last lot of scared farmers. Their task was to spread tales of all the food and provisions that the Baratheons and their allies were bringing with them, and that King Stannis would freely share it out once he won his throne.

This claim was shown to be true when the Baratheon army arrived with wagons full of food. Stannis himself had announced to the defenders on the walls that once the city renounced their false King, he would ensure they were fed. He also promised that there would be no sacking of the city, perhaps the only man in the kingdoms who would see that his men did exactly as he said with regard to that.

Word clearly spread despite Cersei and Tyrion's efforts to contain it. To an already starving and dissatisfied city, this was the spark that lit the flames. As the full army assembled outside the walls, rioting within them increased.