Alice of Westeros Sacrifice

8/12/2019 Alice of Westeros Sacrifice

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ALICE OF WESTEROS SACRIFICE

A WESTEROS (ICE AND FIRE/GAME OF THRONES) FIC

By Sandra Dermark

(I do not own Westeros or Alice of Human Sacrifice)

Once upon a time, there was a little dream.

It was such a little dream, that it is still unknown who dreamt it.

The little dream didnt want to pine away in the shade, completely unnoticed.

So the little dream thought, and thought, and came up with a great idea.

I should let humans come to me, and have them create their own worlds!


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I.

The first Alice was a gallant one.

Sword in hand, she entered Wonderland...

She was taller and more stalwart than any other maiden in all of Westeros. And, being the only

child of a veteran warrior, she had been raised like a boy: taught to ride horses, swing swords,

fight hand to hand. Brienne kept her flaxen hair short, and her freckled cheeks were rosy with

sunshine.

She never married, for could there be somewhere a gentleman who would wed such an

amazon?

She was born and raised on one of the Stormlands' vassal islands, coming over to the mainland

to seek her fortune. Lord Renly Baratheon, her dark-eyed liege, impressed by Brienne's

prowess, made her one of his foremost warriors and the ensign of his company: the only lady

knight so far in the Stormlands' history. Though the flaxen-haired lady knight felt her heart beat

for Renly: the young lord was as pleased with Loras Tyrell as Loras was with him. Yet the lady

ensign didn't feel the slightest twinge of jealousy.

She stayed behind as Renly left for his sweetheart's birthplace, and stayed always faithful to her

duty, until Storm's End fell to the hosts of the cold-hearted Stannis Baratheon in the absence of

his younger brother. As she set off for the Reach and Highgarden, to call her lord to arms,

Brienne saw villages razed, the godswood ablaze, the faith of the Lord of Light imposed with fire

and sword.

The dark-bearded Lord Renly didn't hesitate, neither golden-haired and hazel-eyed Loras. Hailing

their liege lord as their king, the warriors returned to their homeland, their hearts ablaze withconfidence.

They encamped before the fortress as soon as they arrived, then lit a campfire for the leaders to

gather around. Every warrior, even the lady ensign, hasted to quench his thirst and have a rest

after the exhausting march from the Reach to the Stormlands.

That night, a tall and lean figure stabbed Renly Baratheon in the back and ran a sharp longsword

through his chest. All evidence pointed at Brienne, even though her blade was free from blood

stains. His mind clouded by sorrow and anger, Loras Tyrell at first accused the fair-haired lady

knight of a heinous crime.

During the chaos that was the storming of the Baratheons' native seat, a tall and blond warrior in

a blood-stained breastplate fled up north, into the darkest woods. Her blue eyes sparkled withconfidence: she was sure that young Tyrell would recognize her innocence.

Ever since, tales have been told of a lady knight scouring the woods of that region, taking special

delight in slaughtering troops led by Stannis Baratheon. She leaves a trail of crimson blood and

slain soldiers in her path. Aside from her wake of blood and slain Baratheonian soldiers, there is

no other sign of her existence.

She exists. She is still alive, still thirsty for revenge.


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II.

The second Alice was a gentlemanly one.

Singing a song, he entered Wonderland...

The ruler of those lands was in love with the beauties and charms of life. From the clifftop tower

where he was born and raised, Renly Baratheon delighted in the warm colours of the sun setting

behind the woods, the glitter of sunlight on the waves, the soft spring flowers, and the falling of

the autumn leaves. From beyond the woods, from the fertile Reach, came Loras, his good

friend, to whose sister Margaery he was betrothed.

Renly was as pleased with Loras as Loras was with Renly.

Now Margaery wasn't that homely to say the least, but it wasn't for her that Renly's young heart

beat in such a febrile way. It was hazel-eyed Loras, with his cascades of golden locks and soft

cheeks of peach-fuzz, that Renly loved. He had recently left his birthplace to live on the Tyrells'

stately chateau, surrounded by the high ramparts and beautiful gardens that gave the estate

such a wonderful name. The lady of Highgarden loved him like she loved her own children, and

she hoped that Renly and Margaery, having tied the knot, could give her hopeful grandchildren.

The young dark-haired lord, whose cheeks and upper lip had started, unlike those of his beloved,

to be decked with little strands of raven hair, still saw her as a friend, remaining steadfast in his

feelings for Loras. Though their religion forbade such a relationship, it did not inflict any

punishment. The young men kissed under trellises of golden roses, they shook peach blossoms

on each others heads... they slept in the same bed, in the same bedchamber, tickling each

other under green coversheets embroidered with golden roses. They loved each other

passionately all spring and summer long (and though Renly had wed the auburn and green-eyed

Margaery in midsummer). But autumn had to come, the rainbows had to fade away, and such

love had to pay its due.

Leaden clouds darkened the skies, the golden roses started to wither, and many other flowers

had pined away. Cold winds from the east made the leaves fall, and warriors from the

Stormlands visited Highgarden. Their leader was a tall and freckled lady knight with short, fair

hair and steel-blue eyes.

The Stormlanders wanted their lord to be their king and deliverer. For Stannis Baratheon, Renly's

stern and cold-hearted older brother, had left the harsh island fortress he ruled to claim his

ancestral lands at Storm's End, where he had imposed a foreign religion by fire and sword. If left

unchecked, the flames of war could smite the peaceful Reach.

The farewell knew no equal. Though Renly merely loved her as a good friend, he kissed his


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young consort and dried up her unchecked tears. Westward did the Stormland host ride:

dark-eyed Renly before his ranks, soft-cheeked Loras Tyrell by his right side, fair-haired Brienne

carrying the standard of the golden stag to the left. When they arrived, Stannis had already taken

Storm's End, and burned the sacred godswood to the ground. The heroes could do nothing but

encamp by the ramparts and await the garrison's surrender.From the window in the chamber that once was his brother's, Stannis watched the enemy lay

siege to the Baratheons' ancestral seat. That evening, two young men lay huddled together by

the campfire. The dark-eyed, clean-shaven conqueror recognized young Renly and Loras Tyrell.

Having converted to another religion, Stannis couldn't forgive his younger brother's sins. Defying

nature by making love to his own gender! Such a notorious deed should not be left unpunished!

Restraining the rage that surged within him, Stannis Baratheon announced that he would make a

sortie into the enemy camp on his own. The sharp longsword at his side remained sheathed, but

his firm hand was on the hilt.

Half-drunk on sweet Reach fruit wine, two young warriors lay half-asleep in the middle of the

Renlyian encampment. One of them was raven-haired and bearded, while the other had golden

locks and downy cheeks. A tall and dark figure, wielding a longsword, stepped silently by the

campfire. A flash of moonlight reflected on the blade. Renly felt a sharp, stabbing pain in his

back, piercing his vital organs, and then the tip of the sharp steel sprung up in the middle of his

chest. The young lord didn't have time to look over his shoulder and recognize his clean-shaven

and lean older brother as the one who had run him through the chest with his sword, for the

blade had pierced his heart: with one last sigh, dark-haired Renly ceased to breathe and shut his

eyes forever. The blood that surged from his pierced heart spread like the scattering petals ofcrimson roses.

When Loras woke up, he burst into tears that couldn't be restrained. The news of his beloved's

death had spread through the encampment like wildfire. And the rage of the Stormlanders

couldn't be more justified.

They rushed forth to avenge their liege lord, the hazel-eyed Loras himself slaying the enemy's

lieutenants with his own sword in a fit of grieving rage, but to no avail: most of the Renlyian

officers had already defected to the enemy side or been taken prisoner. "I can't avenge him if I'm

dead", the young Tyrell thought, as his ranks deserted him: the stronghold on the cliff did not fall

at the end of the day. But the slayer of Renly had already left. And a teary-eyed Loras had fled

the Stormlands, returning home to the Reach on his own, with the lifeless form of his beloved.

I won't delve on how fair Brienne, to convince Loras of her innocence, fled the camp during the

siege. What is worth of mention is that the lifeless form of Renly Baratheon was brought to the

peaceful Reach, then earthed beneath the rose trees where he had so frequently kissed his

darling, as Highgarden was draped in black.


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When spring came, the roses at his grave bloomed neither golden nor blood red, but the colour

of copper. And the memory of his untimely death would linger within the hearts of the Tyrells, as

long as the Reach existed.

The most experienced veterans in Westeros say that a rider on a white steed, wearing an

antlered helmet and a shining breastplate, led the cavalry charge on the frontline at Blackwater.The battle was lost, but the charge would never be forgotten. The veteran soldiers say it was

Renly Baratheon, whose death may not have been what happened in real life. Only a few people,

the Tyrells of Highgarden, know the truth: the leader of the charge was Loras Tyrell, dressed in

Renly's suit of armour and riding his liege lord's steed.


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III.

The third Alice was a beautiful young girl,

the fairest and dearest one to enter Wonderland...

She had come from the Northern hinterland, from a province called "Winterfall" or something like

that... Winterfell. The daughter of the late chancellor and a rebel dowager, her hair was the

reddish brown colour of mahogany, and her eyes were as blue and pure as summer skies. Her

name was Sansa Stark.

She had chosen to stay at court because her own native shire looked cold and bleak in

comparison. And because the newly-crowned boy king had (ostensibly) yielded his heart to her

modest provincial charms. Thus, Sansa still lived in the Red Keep with her betrothed and his

tangled family. Indeed, Joffrey I, with his downy cheeks, his golden locks, and those piercing

emerald eyes, was the best party in the land and the dream of all its maidens. And she, out of

them all, was his bride! The courtiers in their elegant robes were always at their beck and call...

but, to tell you the truth, the one who actually ruled Westeros from the Red Keep was Queen

Mother Cersei, regent by widowhood, as beautiful as her eldest son and heir, whose good looks

he had inherited. The Golden Lioness was the one to arrange the betrothal, and to live the life of

her daughter-in-law. She had set up a trap for the young girl, ensuring the Keep would be the

gilded cage from which she never should escape.

Looking up at the night sky from her tower bedchamber, Sansa thought of her own mother, of

her older brother and younger sister, of the harsh granite halls where they used to play, and

suddenly burst into tears. She couldn't return to Winterfell. And she was no longer a child.


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IV.

The fourth Alice was a couple of siblings.

Out of curiosity, they entered Wonderland...

They were both in the garden of their guardians' estate when their adventure started. They were

both lilywhite, with soft hair the colour of platinum and periwinkle eyes.

The young siblings were foreigners and orphans of war. Their memories of early childhood,

before the great debacle, were too vague and violent, and far behind them.

Viserys, the eldest, was a thoughtful and reserved youth, recently come of age. He was always

distant, tense, as if longed for more than he already had.

Daenerys, by contrast, was a lively and upbeat girl, with a bright outlook on everything that

happened around her.

He was reading the chronicles of a great war that had taken place centuries before. She didn't

care to remember the names of all those lords of yore, whether slayers or slain. Restless, she

would pull her brother's sleeves as a prank, at which point he'd get annoyed and wish her awaywithout a word, but with a piercing glare.

Then, hopping past them came a white rabbit carrying an envelope. The young girl set off in its

pursuit.

"Dany! Would you...?" No answer came. He decided to follow her down the rabbit hole.

They landed in a hall full of windows and doors, one of them made of swords and thorns, the

other decorated with art nouveau-style copper roses, the third one golden and baroque, with a

lion's head for a knocker and a direwolf's for a knob. The envelope lay on the table in the middle,

the one with a thorn leg, an art nouveau rose leg and a baroque leg.

"Look, Visy! The letter!"

The seal was shaped like a heart and like a stag's antlers at the same time. Both siblingsopened the letter at unison:

Thou art herefore invited

to an endless evening of pleasure

by

Queen Cersei Sansa Lannister

at her court of the Red Keep.

Thou shalt be duly rewarded.

PS. RSVP.

They didn't know which way to go, but they could only open the door of iron and briars, and foundthemselves in the middle of the glistening fir woods. There, they heard the locals speak of a

bloodthirsty lady knight, who wouldn't hesitate to slay anyone in her path to avenge the death of

her liege lord. At the end of the woods, Visy and Dany stopped to rest at a chateau draped in

black, with a beautiful garden full of spring flowers. Another couple of siblings, an auburn-haired

maiden and a golden-haired youth dressed in black, met them by the tree that yielded copper

roses. They told the fair-haired travellers the tale of a young ruler fond of beauty and love, yet


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slain because of his passions, and of the lady knight with eyes of blue and flaxen hair, banished

to the woods by the owner of the rose garden for having been unable to protect their liege. They

were given directions to get to the Red Keep, but they were warned that they wouldn't be that

welcome at court.

The beautiful gardens gave way to a vast, endless grassland. A detachment of dark riders

crossed their path. They escorted Dany and Visy to their camp, to introduce them to their leader.The stalwart warlord was dark-skinned, with a long raven braid. And he was wealthy enough to

produce at least a golden crown for the Queen to accept the upstarts. But not for free.

So, Viserys saw his chance. He introduced Dany to the warlord and vice versa. "My sister in

exchange for the golden crown". The fiancs didn't even know each other.

And periwinkle-eyed Visy got his golden crown indeed: the riders poured molten gold on his

head, scalding him and stripping him of his platinum locks. While his little sister, not to be alone,

married the warlord and became, after his untimely death, the leader of all the riders.

One day, the army she led would be vast enough to put the Queen's ranks to rout.


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But who would become the next Alice?

Alice of Westeros Sacrifice

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