Theon
It's a queer joke that Theon Greyjoy, after being tortured for what felt like his entire life by Ramsay Bolton—dreading the pain that he inflicted every day—would be standing on a ship of his own, surrounded by men who obey his commands, about to take part in the greatest battle the Narrow Sea has ever known. Hundreds of his uncle's ships are on fast approach, and Theon hears Yara screaming from the bow of their ship for the men to prepare the cannons.
When Theon witnesses Daenerys return on her black dragon and soar over her fleet, he finds himself shivering in his boots—and not out of anticipation like he used to. Reek, what do you think you're doing? Get that armor off and go hide. You're no soldier. Not anymore.
You're wrong, Theon tells the cruel voice. This is my chance, this is my redemption! I'm not Reek anymore. I'm Theon Greyjoy! I will bring back honor to my family name, here and now, and kill my uncle myself if I have to, or I will die trying!
"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!" Theon blurts out as loud as he can, shoving his sword up in the air and roaring at the oncoming fleet like one of Ramsay's dogs. Fellow screams of rage erupt all around him. Theon's war cry causes an uproar from his crew, spurring their spirits on, readying them for the onslaught that was to come. As the enemy ships draw closer, Theon knows this was to be his moment.
Then he feels a powerful gust of wind overhead followed by an ear-splitting shriek.
Before any ship can attack, three dragons descend upon Victarion's army, raining fire. Theon hears the pirate's screams of agony, sees the burning men try to dive into the sea and save themselves. The flames catch the sails, tearing them down as the base of the ships are torn asunder. The ships in the rear begin to open fire, catapulting burning rocks up into the sky, attempting to strike the dragons down—But Drogon leads his brothers with deft precision, weaving between every fiery comet that rushes up to greet them. The rocks plummet back down into the sea, narrowly missing the front-line of Dany's fleet, though salty water splashes Theon's face every time a boulder crashes near them. Yara commands their ships to hold back and wait—for it's too dangerous to get close to the battle now. The dragons are unmerciful. Their streams of fire cascade endlessly over every Ironborn galley until Drogon swoops around and his siblings follow. They begin again, flying back toward Dany's fleet. They continue this pattern, and every ship that meets their shadow burns until the entire eastern horizon is ablaze.
Theon thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. It was like staring into the Seven Hells itself, and feeling no fear because the God of Death was on his side.
That was then. After it was over, Theon realizes this was no battle at all. This was a slaughter. Every enemy ship in sight was on fire and sinking. Most of their inhabitants are either dead or dying. Theon observes one man dancing aboard his deck on fire, tripping and falling into a broken mast and slicing his face apart. He sees a man up in the crow's nest, surrounded by flames, try and make a leap for the water before he was overtaken—but lands instead on the railing, breaking his legs. The dragon's cries of triumph are something Theon will remember for the rest of his days.
That was quite a victory. Great honor. Well done, Reek.
