The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 52: The New Hand

A/N: Axel needs a new Hand. Hey look there's one now!

-x-X-x-

Physically, Axel is already completely fine. Despite burning for a week straight, he's healed in full somehow. Even wildfire hadn't proven enough to put him down. Really, the only remaining signs of what he'd gone through were the shortness of his hair, which was still growing back in… and the stubble upon his face.

Apparently, repeatedly losing all of his flesh to wildfire and having it regrow over and over again finally made him capable of growing a beard. Honestly, there had been a time when Axel had wondered if he would ever be able to grow facial hair. He still remembered some of the men from the Mountain Clans over in the Vale giving him shit about it in fact… before he kicked some teeth in and broke a few jaws, of course.

And yet… he'd gladly give up the ability to grow a beard if it meant that he could have Jon back. Unfortunately, the old man was gone and he wasn't coming back. And as much as it fucking hurt, Axel knew that the last thing Jon would want him to do is wallow in his grief.

No, if anything, now wasn't the time to be sitting around pouting over his own failures. Now was the time for action. Now was the time for initiative. That was why he'd called for his uncle Stannis Baratheon to attend him.

The moment that the older man enters the room; Axel turns away from the window he was staring at and points at the table.

"I'm making you the Hand of the King, effective immediately. Accept and put on the damn pin."

His uncle stiffens for a moment, eyes moving to follow Axel's finger to where the Hand of the King's badge of office sits on the table. It's not the one that Jon Arryn wore, of course. That melted down to nothing in the wildfire. But having another made wasn't that difficult or time consuming, in the end.

Finally, after a deliberate pause, Stannis walks over to the table and scoops up the pin, affixing it to his chest. Axel nods his approval.

"Good. You'll remain Master of Laws for now as well. We'll figure out who will replace you in that position later. Have you spoken with Lord Davos about the state of the Royal Fleet yet?"

Stannis nods sharply, proving already that Axel has made the right decision.

"I have, Your Grace. The Royal Fleet is coming together as fast as possible. I've also had the late Grandmaester's apprentices send ravens to all of the Seven Kingdoms calling them to war. Ironborn ships have already begun reaving up and down the coast. Reports say they've only been hitting small fishing villages so far, but it's only a matter of time."

Axel just grunts.

"I'm sure it is. We'll stop them. And I'll kill Euron Greyjoy with my bare hands for whatever part he had to play in Jon's death."

His new Hand nods decisively at that, before hesitates briefly. Axel waves a hand, wordlessly telling him to speak his damn mind.

"… What of Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn up in the Vale? They will soon arrive at the Eyrie if they aren't there already… and word of your survival will no doubt reach them as well. If they're as guilty as we suspect, they might try to flee.

Axel smiles grimly at that, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter; I don't intend to give them the chance to run. I'm going to go to the Vale personally and deal with them myself. I'll put them both to the question and find out just how deep this rot extends, no matter what it takes."

Grim faced and dour as ever, Stannis just nods again.

"Understood. I'll have an escort assembled immediately and-!"

"No. Don't bother. I'm going alone, I'll be faster that way."

That claim shocks his uncle, of course. Stannis Baratheon's brow furrows in confusion.

"Alone, Your Grace? I'm not sure I understand. That wouldn't be safe, for a number of reasons."

Letting out a sigh, Axel considers things for a moment. He doesn't blame Stannis for his confusion or his concern. In the end… this was all his fault, ultimately. He should have been on the lookout for something like the wildfire scheme. He should have seen it coming. He should have trained his reflexes more.

He was fast when he wanted to be. Extremely fast. But he could only move as quickly as he could react and when the wildfire had gone off, Axel had been distracted. He hadn't been paying attention, too lost in his own world and pitying himself for having to choose between two very beautiful women.

Jon Arryn paid the price for that. There was a world where Axel could have been more alert. More observant. Where he might have been able to grab the other man and throw them both out the window ahead of the explosion. He'd shielded and cushioned Jon's fall once before after all, back on the High Road.

… But he would never know what could have been because you didn't get second chances in life. You didn't get 'do-overs'. Jon was dead and Axel would always carry some of the blame for that with himself.

Still, he was done playing games. He was done hiding. They'd all seen him burn and burn. The Faith was already calling it a miracle from the Seven because he'd apparently burned for exactly seven days and seven nights or some shit.

There were even all sorts of titles being bandied about, both for the event and for him. The people loved him because the High Septon and the Most Devout loved him. And that… that was all thanks to Jon. All thanks to his advice, his plan to get the Faith of the Seven on their side.

Really, what was the point of holding anything back anymore? What was the point of hiding any longer, now that Jon was dead?

"Draw your sword."

Stannis blinks in confusion… but nevertheless does what he's told. Obedient and loyal, that's his uncle to the hilt. Stepping over to the table, Axel pulls up his sleeve, exposing his pristine, blemish-free arm. He lays it on the table and nods to it.

"Cut off my hand."

Now comes the resistance though. Even a man as dutiful and loyal as Stannis Baratheon has his limits. His new Hand balks, eyes widening in disbelief.

"What? You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious, Lord Hand. Consider it an order from your King. Cut off my hand. Don't hold anything back, Stannis."

When the older man continues to hesitate, Axel finally throws him a bone.

"I healed from being covered in wildfire from head to toe, uncle. Do you really think a blade will be the death of me?"

That prompts a flash of understanding in the other man's still-confused eyes. Nodding slowly, Stannis finally steps forward and raises his sword above his head. And then, with a hoarse shout, he brings it down upon Axel's wrist. Castle Forged Steel meets freshly grown skin… and the skin wins. Stannis' blade is stopped dead in its tracks by Axel's arm, traveling no further as the Lord of Storm's End is left wide eyed and baffled by what he's seeing.

Pulling his blade back, Stannis looks from it to Axel in disbelief. Axel just smiles… and then moves. He suspects he appears like a blur to Stannis' eyes, moving as fast as he can from one room to the other. He doesn't hold anything back. He doesn't slow himself down at all.

For a moment, Stannis just stares blankly at where Axel once stood, confused. It's only when Axel clears his throat that his uncle whips around, eyes wide as he finds Axel on the other side of the room. Once he has Stannis' full attention again, Axel rears back a fist… and punches a hole in the wall beside him, going right through the stone and burying his arm up to the elbow in the castle wall.

Stannis gapes, even as Axel slowly draws his arm back, shaking off dust and stone fragments and revealing a completely pristine, uninjured limb and fingers to his uncle's gaze. Then, he strides back over to Stannis at a more sedate, normal pace, standing before the older man once again.

Forcing a jovialness he doesn't really feel onto his face, Axel shrugs.

"I know this is a lot. But this is who I am. This is what I'm capable of."

When Stannis just continues to stare, Axel sighs and continues on, explaining how things are going to go to his new Hand.

"I'll go to the Vale alone. I'm faster than any horse so I'll go on foot. I imagine I'll be able to make it there and deal with things swiftly enough that I'll be back in King's Landing in time for Jon's funeral, even. Though really, I'll always be back in time for Jon's funeral because if you try to hold it without me present, I'll be very, very displeased."

He tries to make his tone as amused and light as possible. It doesn't help all that much though, because… well, Stannis is still trying to catch up to everything that just happened. He can see the wheels turning in his uncle's mind as the older man tries to reconcile Axel's abilities with his understanding of the world… and fails.

"What… what are you?"

Maybe he should be insulted by the question, but he isn't… not really. After all, it's a question that Axel has asked himself for much of his life. Ever since he'd first realized just how different he was from everyone else. Ever since he'd begun to understand that normal people couldn't jump a twenty-foot cliff face, or outrun a horse, or take a mountain warrior's mace to the face and have the mace be the thing to break apart.

In the end, Axel lets out a slow breath… and shrugs again.

"I don't know. Jon knew what I could do. He counseled me to keep it a secret as best as I could so that they wouldn't label me a demon or monster. But he's gone now. And the Faith are praising my unnaturalness on every street corner in King's Landing."

Stannis' eyes widen as a realization comes to him.

"You could have won the entire Trial by the Seven all on your own. You were never in any real danger of losing, were you?"

Axel smiles fondly at that, his hand falling to the pommel of Stonehart as he strokes the Valyrian Steel Sword affectionately. The blade had been the only other thing to survive the wildfire explosion. The handle and pommel had all but melted and fused with his hand after a certain point, forcing Axel to have those parts quickly replaced. But the Valyrian Steel, his Stonehart… that had remained intact. The only other survivor of the wildfire explosion.

"Not quite. It turned out Valyrian Steel could cut me even if normal steel can't. Loras Tyrell actually came closer to killing me than the wildfire did, I think."

Both had failed though, in the end. He'd survived Loras Tyrell and he'd survived the wildfire too.

"The entirety of King's Landing knows that I somehow healed from being doused in wildfire and burning for a week straight. Jon might have wanted me to keep hiding even after his death, but there's no point anymore. Westeros will soon know everything I can do and frankly… I'm done holding back."

Stannis, Axel can see, is slowly coming around already. The man might be a little too rigid and inflexible at times, but he's had a while now to come to terms with Axel surviving the wildfire. In the face of that spectacle, the rest of what he's just been shown isn't really that bad, now is it?

"… The Faith certainly won't repudiate you. It's like you said, they're already declaring you the Seven's Blessed all across the city. Even if you show more of your capabilities, they'll continue to sing your praises so long as you continue to pay lip service to the Seven."

Axel chuckles at Stannis' blunt appraisal. Nodding, he grunts.

"Perhaps the Seven did bless me. Who's to say. In the end, it doesn't really matter."

Stannis gives him a questioning look at that, as if to say it very much does matter… but Axel waves him off.

"What matters now is avenging Jon and stopping Euron Greyjoy before he can do too much damage. Make sure Davos has the Royal Fleet ready to set sail soon after Jon's funeral. Make sure that the rest of the Seven Kingdoms are calling their banners and preparing to march for the Iron Islands."

Smiling grimly, Axel lets out a sharp exhale.

"There will be no Trial this time. We're going to smash the Ironborn Fleet. I'm going to show them the error of their ways. And like I said, I will kill Euron Greyjoy with my bare hands if I have to. But first… Petyr Baelish and Lysa Arryn. I will have answers from them, I will have justice for Jon Arryn, and then I will return. Do I make myself clear?"

Letting out a shuddering breath, Stannis finally nods.

"… Yes, Your Grace. It will be done. I will await your return."

Good. Axel knows he's not making this easy on Stannis. There will probably be questions about where Axel has gone from just about everybody. His Kingsguard in particular aren't likely to be happy given the fervent loyalty they'd shown during his burning.

Axel had taken the liberty of already letting Ser Arys know that he would be departing today. The Lord Commander was under the mistaken impression that he was taking members of the Kingsguard with him though… and Axel intended to be long gone by the time the man realized his mistake and that no one had left the city alongside him.

In the end, he's already decided that he's not going to let anything or anyone slow him down. After Stannis departs, Axel doesn't hesitate. He puts on a cloak and departs from the Red Keep, moving through the city as fast as humanly possible, though not as fast as he could actually move.

Eventually though, he's able to reach a section of the wall that he leaps over, not wanting anything to do with gate guards who might disrupt or stop him in order to find out his identity.

Once he's outside of the city… Axel begins to truly move. It might be the first time in his entire life that he's actually ran as fast as he can for a prolonged period of time. While he'd gotten adept at traversing the Mountains of the Moon during his last few years in the Vale, there weren't any long stretches of flat ground there to run on. Not when it was just faster to leap and climb and jump over the rocky cliffs and what not to get where he needed to go.

More than that though, Axel feels lighter in a way. Physically speaking anyways, because emotionally and mentally, he's never felt heavier. Still, as he runs North from King's Landing, the Mountains of the Moon looming far in the distance and impossible to miss, Axel is reminded of something he heard a Maester once say.

Fire… was not only destructive. It was also cleansing in a way, with the ash left behind by flames usually turning out to enrich the soil and clear the way for new life to grow in its wake.

Axel didn't think wildfire was necessarily supposed to be the same thing, and yet part of him wondered. He felt stronger and faster than ever before. And most of all, he feels light as a feather as he raced across the plains of the Crownlands on his way to the Vale.

The only real issue is the Valyrian Steel Sword at his hip bouncing along his leg in an irritating fashion thanks to his speed. But then that's easy enough to fix by reaching down and pulling it off his belt, sheath and all. Gripping the sheathed blade tightly in his hand, Axel begins to pick up even more speed, flying across the ground so fast his feet don't always touch.

With a grunt, he pushes himself off the ground on his next step… and goes flying, soaring through the air with his limbs pinwheeling for a moment before falling back down to earth. He lands heavy the first time, the ground beneath his feet giving way before him and causing him to dig a divot in the earth as he skids to a stop.

… But then he tries it again and again and soon enough he's able to find a rhythm of sorts. Leap, soar, land, run. Leap, soar, land, run.

It's almost freeing in a way, to no longer hold himself back. To finally just be who and what he is. Maybe he is a monster. Maybe he is a demon. Maybe he truly is blessed by the Seven.

At this point in time, Axel Baratheon knows just one thing and one thing only. His enemies are going to regret the day they decided to wage war on him and his.

-x-X-x-

A/N: He's soarin', he's flyin'- oops, wrong genre.

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