Author's Note

This chapter contains scenes that are not safe for work, including acts of a sexual nature.

Lets face it, Euron is a slimy, creepy, disgusting bastard. I tried to show that in this chapter. I apologize for the short length of this chapter, but well, this was all I could take of Euron for now. Now if you will all excuse me, I need to go take a shower after writing this.

Laughter filled his head. The high pitched peals and giggling of young girls invaded his ears. The laughter surrounded him and grew louder with every passing moment.

Euron tried to force his eyes open, but it was as if they were sewn shut. Yet, it did not seem to matter. For even while he desperately tried to open his eyes, he began to see where the laughter was coming from. All around him, girls dressed in white gowns, with bare feet and crowns of white winter roses upon their heads, danced.

They all clasped hands as they spun around him. He could see the smiles on their faces and the laughter in their eyes in the light of the fire. Fire! He was surrounded by it! The flames licked hungrily at him. But they did not harm him. Neither his clothes, nor his hair, nor his flesh burned. What sorcery was this?

Without warning, his nose was filled the pungent smell of rotting flesh. Over the the sound of the laughter, he heard the flames hiss as water dripped into them. Euron turned his head and through his still closed eyes, he saw death. Clad in sea-soaked and dripping robes, with long stands of sea weed hanging under the cowl of his cloak and dragging along behind him, stood the Drowned God.

The Drowned God's voice was little more than a whisper submerged in a gurgle, and the finger he pointed at the dancing, laughing girls was bony and black with rot. But his message was clear. Euron stretched out his arms and felt the power of the Drowned God flow into his flesh. He clenched his hands into fists. When he felt as if his body could hold no more, he opened his fists.

With a rush, the power that was contained in Euron's body rushed our and away from him. It flowed away from him in a long series of waves, just as the Seas surrounding Pike did. The flames that were surrounding him were abruptly snuffed out by the water that poured from him. The laughs turned to screams which turned to gurgles as the waves crashed over the dancing girls and drowned them. The water that the Drowned God had imbued him with poured from him in stronger and stronger streams and waves.

As it left him, his body was lightened and he began to rise up higher and higher. Soon he could see all the way to The Flint Cliffs on Cape Kraken and even beyond to the Rills and the Stony Shore. And as he watched, the waves that left him flowed up and over the shores and, flooding over the lands, swamping the forests, and drowning everyone in their path. He drove the waves onwards, he would flood the very mountains themselves.

But then his body began rotating and soon he was facing south. Now he saw Fair Isle and Feastfires. And just as in the North, the waves roaring out from him covered their shores and drove them beneath the seas. Even further south, the Shield Islands roared their defiance at him. But there were powerless to stop the waves. The Drowned God's power, flowing through him, could not be stopped.

Until he looked down. For while the Drowned God was allowing his power to flow through him, he was feasting on Euron's flesh at the same time. Already his legs below the knee had been consumed. He tried to scream, but when he opened his mouth, nothing but sea water came out of it. Now his body began to convulse as his lungs fought to breath, but nothing but the sea could be pulled into them. Euron could only watch in horror as the Drowned God continued his feast.

The god's hands stripped the flesh from his thighs and fed the gaping maw where his mouth should be. His blood poured from him to be collected in a vat that looked as if it had held the flames he was engulfed in earlier. But his blood was not red, it was pink, as if his veins were filled with a mix of seawater and blood. The Drowned God looked up at him with eyes that were milky white and covered with a sheen of water, before bending down and drinking deep from the blood that had pooled beneath him.

All too soon and the eldritch god returned to his meal. With hands nearly as soft as a lovers, the Drowned God fondled his cock and balls. And Euron began to respond. How, why, he would never know. But he started to stiffen and his cock rose like a mast before him. The Drowned God enveloped him with his mouth, and Euron wanted to recoil in terror from the cold, wet embrace of the dead thing's mouth on his parts, but he couldn't move. Euron felt a sudden increased pressure and then a sharp searing pain. Again, he tried to scream. And again, naught but water left his mouth.

When he looked down, his manhood was gone, root and stem both. The horror he felt doubled. He was no longer a man, no longer...anything. Still, the mad god continued to feast upon him. His innards were torn from his body and swallowed whole. His ribs were ripped open to give the god access to his lungs and heart. Soon, only his head remained. And somehow, beyond all reason, Euron was awake for all of it. He could feel everything. He could see the Drowned God devouring his body. He could still hear every sickening sound his god made as he feasted on his flesh.

Until the moment the god pulled his head to him and pressed his wet, blue lips against his own. Then, and only then, did everything go black. Euron felt things changing. He felt like he was far away, and very close, at the same time. Sensations that were new and bewildering flew at him from all sides. And when he opened his eyes, he found that they were not his eyes that he opened. For he had become the Drowned God.

With a gasp, Euron sat bolt upright in his bed. His hands flew over his body, he grasped his cock to make sure it was still there. Whole. He was still whole. He could breath, no water poured from his lips when he opened his mouth. Euron started to cackle uncontrollably. A dream! I was naught but a dream!

He felt the bed shift and remembered the slut he had taken to bed the night before. She thought to become his salt wife. He chuckled at that. She was useful in keeping his bed warm and his balls empty. But that was all. He pulled his hand back and slapped her hard on the ass, making her yelp and jump as he woke her up. She looked up at him as she rubbed where his hand had stung her. Euron did not even speak to her. He simply wrapped his hand in her hair and pulled her head down to his cock where she began to suck.

Euron threw his head back in pleasure. It would be a shame to tear the slut's tongue from her skull when he was done with her. She was sooo talented with it. But he cared not for how she would feel about it. Any who entered his service eventually shared the same fate. All would be rendered silent in due course. But for now, he would take his pleasure of the girl.

She really was quite good at her task, and soon had him erupting, filling her mouth with his seed. Previously, she had swallowed it down without complaint. But now, as the first spurt left his manhood, she began to cough and sputter and Euron had to force her head down as she tried to pull away. How dare the whore try to deny him?! He would have what he desired one way or the other. As his climax finished, the slut kept coughing and retching on his seed. She had ruined it for him and he shoved her away from him.

He fixed her with a murderous glare that she didn't even notice. Instead, she began apologizing, saying, "Forgive me, M'lord. But you taste different than you did earlier this evening. You were sweet when we went to bed, but now you taste of naught but salt and the sea. You were so salty I couldn't keep it in my mouth."

Euron felt his rage cool slightly. Salt and the sea? Could it be? Could his dream have been more than a dream? Could it have been a message from the Drowned God? Despite what his pious brother thought, he very much believed in the Drowned God. He may not be follow the priest's deluded rituals, but he knew the Drowned God more intimately than any man alive. Euron pulled the whore back to him, and kissed her violently. He had to see for himself if she spoke truly. He forced his tongue into her mouth and tasted himself on her. It was true. His mouth was filled with the taste of salt and the sea. The Drowned God had placed his mark upon him.

Euron groaned in thanks for the gift his god had bestowed upon him. He broke the kiss and pushed the girl's head back down to pleasure him again while he thought of what his god had showed him. The Drowned God promised him a victory. But not just a victory over his enemies in the North and South. He had been promised a victory over death itself! He would become the Drowned God, it only required him to devote everything, every bit of himself, to his god. This he would gladly do.

While the girl brought him back to full mast, he pondered what he should do first. The vision he had received suggested that he should look to the North first. And he had recently received a Raven from the North. The bastard king in Winterfell offered him a parlay and a deal. His niece in exchange for peace. It was enough to make Euron laughed. He cared not for the girl that sprang from Balon's loins. She was less than nothing to him. But he could use her.

Euron pulled the girl's head from his loins and told her in a gruff voice, "mount me and ride until I finish inside you."

The slut did as she was told and her wet warmth soon enveloped him. Such a shame what would happen to her. Ah, well, back to his conundrum with his family.

How best to use his niece? If he was going to agree to peace, he would need to be there, to meet with this bastard king personally. Euron grinned. Had not the Drowned God promised him a great victory over the northmen? He would draw this bastard king to the shore and under the guise of peace, butcher him where he stood. He would take him and offer him as a gift to the Drowned God, drowned off his own shore. Euron laughed at the thought. It was perfect. The North would be leaderless and in chaos, free to be harvested at their leisure. It was delicious.

Even as he had the thought, his climax was upon him, and he filled the girl who was seated upon him with his seed. He had surely filled her belly with a bastard this night. As his climax subsided, he pushed her off of him and abruptly stood. His cock was sticky with their juices and his seed was slowly leaking from between her thighs. Euron walked to a basin full of seawater that he kept in his bedchamber and washed himself in the sea. He had to purify himself.

When he turned back, the girl had nearly fallen back asleep. Good. He enjoyed a struggle, but this first part was always easier when they were tired. Bending down, he drew her hand and arm toward him before slipping a loop of rope made from seaweed over her wrist and tightening it. Not enough to wake her, but enough to hold her until he was ready. He was not as careful with her other arm. She woke even as he tightened the rope to hold her in place. Her legs he left free to kick. He liked to see them try and fight their fate.

Euron straddled the bound girl, leaned down over her and grabbed her, with his hand under her chin and his fingers pressing in on either side of her face, forcing her mouth open. In his other hand, he held a pair of pincers that he had pulled from the table beside the bed. The girl's eyes widened with terror and she began to kick and twist, trying to escape the clutches of what she now must think is a madman. She tired screaming, she tried crying, she tried to kick him and buck him off of her. Euron laughed maniacally. Oh he had missed this!

It was all for naught. No matter how she struggled, she was no match for Euron. He won in the end. He always won in the end. For none had his devotion to the Drowned God. None had his persistence. None had his need for silence. He forced the pincers into her mouth and grasped her tongue firmly with them.

With a leer, he whispered in her ear, "All who serve me, serve in silence."

Euron pulled.