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In King's Landing…
—At Maegor's Holdfast—
"Ooooh…" Sansa moaned exhaustively.
The Wolf Queen was in the final stages of her second pregnancy and was resting on her side as Shae and Jeyne tended to her needs; judging from the way Sansa was complaining, she looked like she could give birth at any moment. Shae wiped the Queen's brow while Jeyne did what she could to make her childhood best friend feel comfortable as much as possible. The twins, Lyonel and Cassana—now 3-years-old and standing 3 feet 7¾ inches tall—remained at their mother's side and watched her with a concerned expression on their faces.
"Mommy?" whined Lyonel.
"Is mommy sick?" Cassana inquired.
"No, little ones," Shae shook her head, doing her best to explain. "Your mother's gonna have a baby soon. She needs plenty of rest until the baby comes."
Sansa offered a reassuringly warm smile. "It's okay, sweetlings," she said. "This is— mmmmm… perfectly normal. All mothers go through this at some point in their lives."
"Really?" asked the elder twin.
She nodded. "What you're seeing me do… it's just to get the baby ready for delivery."
Cassana gently patted her mother's belly. "Will we have a brother or a sister?" she asked.
"I don't know, sweetie. But I guess we'll find out soon."
"I wan' a brother," Lyonel chirped.
His sister shook her head. "No, I wan' a sister," she retorted.
"Now, now, children. Don't quarrel in front of your mother. I'm already uncomfortable enough as it is, and I do not appreciate it when you two start arguing."
"We're sorry, mommy," they apologized.
Sansa patted her son's and daughter's heads – understanding that they were still young and learning. Only a few more moments and she'll have another child in no time; but on the other hand, Sansa knew there was a war going on between her husband and the Mad King's daughter Daenerys—in addition to Euron Greyjoy's raiding to the Reach islands. She must've imagined that Daveth must be under a lot of pressure and would be solely focused on fighting multiple battles on two different fronts.
"Sansa?" Jeyne's voice broke her thoughts.
The Wolf Queen groaned and shuddered as she felt pressure building up. Saying nothing, she calmly held a hand up to reassure everyone present in the same room to remain steady. Just then the door to her room opened up—revealing the visitor to be none other than Daveth himself. Sansa wearily looked up at her husband and could tell by the look in his eyes that something was definitely on his mind.
"Hi daddy," Cassana greeted.
Lyonel tilted his head sideways. "Daddy?" he chirped.
Daveth ruffled his son's hair—the elder twin snickered as Cassana looked up at her father. The Young Stag looked down at her face, the innocent twinkling in her eyes. Both his son and daughter emanated an aura of innocent purity; untouched by all this wrong and injustice. He hoped to keep them safe from it as their father and provider, but still knew at some point in their lives they'd have to go through it too.
"Oh, u-uh, Y-Your Grace," Jeyne stammered trying to gather her composure.
Sansa knew by Daveth's posture that this was serious. Lifting herself up on her left elbow, she motioned towards her ladies-in-waiting. "Give us a moment," she tells them between exhaustive sighs.
Shae and Jeyne did not leaving their mistress by herself given her explicit condition, but the calm tone she was using indicated she was very serious. Once they left the room—briefly taking a protesting Lyonel and Cassana with them, Daveth sat on the edge of the bed.
"What troubles you, my husband?" Sansa implored, noticing how Daveth's hand trembling slightly.
Daveth sighed. "I'm in need of your counsel, Sansa. Now more than ever," he tells her.
"To what question?" she groaned. "Is it about the war?"
"Partially, but no that's not it. I can handle fighting a war—even if the odds do seem stacked against us considering there are three full-grown dragons, the same as Aegon had when he and his sisters conquered Westeros 300 years ago. I knew that she would inevitably return and spent the past six years getting ourselves ready for this moment. I should be at my utmost capacity. But… he's come back."
"Who?"
"It's… Euron Greyjoy. He's returned. Given what we face, it could set fire to all that I love."
Sansa heard the name before; years ago when Daveth was opening himself up to her for the first time during the early stages of their betrothal. She recalled him mentioning a certain individual responsible for the ironborn raid on Lannisport fifteen years ago, but no that she knows that Euron Greyjoy has indeed made his return to the world known, Sansa knew that it would unsettle Daveth deeply. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not whilst the Targaryens are several miles offshore at Dragonstone and ready to invade at a moment's notice.
Sansa pushed herself up. "So that is why my King is so distant and places a protective layer around him? To shield himself?" she asked, groaning slightly. "It's neither good for your health nor your state of mind."
"What do I do?" Daveth asks. "I can still remember what he did to me. I can still feel what he did to me. What must I do to save the very people I'm sworn to defend when the vague memory of the man makes a chill settle in my gut? I know I'm better than this, yet it shames me to be driven to this point."
"Daveth, listen to me. There's only one person whose words and actions that should affect my dearest love. Those are mine. It's not a question of what a Baratheon should do, nor a Stark or Lannister; neither should it be what husband nor a King ought to be compelled to do. Clinging to the pains of the past resolves nothing but reopening old wounds that have been longed since healed. Instead look deep within yourself, Daveth. You are more than what you've become and what you say you are. I know you can rise above it because I believe in you as does our children and every single person in Westeros whose lives have changed for the better as a result of your decisions. Don't forsake yourself, but more importantly never forget the people around you."
"Sansa…"
"You're going to do the right thing; to keep people calm and guide them to the future. Gods forgive me, but bedridden or no, I'm not going to let them criticize you for something they couldn't possibly understand without getting to know you a bit more. You can do this, Daveth. I know you will."
Daveth felt his hand stop shaking as Sansa's words wormed their way into his thoughts; slowly inhaling and exhaling, the Young Stag permitted himself to be a bit calmer and relaxed. His thoughts once plagued by an old nemesis lifted from his shoulders, he pressed his forehead against his wife's.
"Mmmm ooooh," she moaned again.
Daveth blinked. "Are you having another one of your contractions?" he asked.
Sansa had to lay back down. "Oooh Daveth, each one gets progressively worse than the other. The sooner I have this baby, the better I'll feel," she groaned. "Try not to fuss yourself over me, love. I'll be all right. If any changes do indeed occur, either Shae or Jeyne will inform you."
"All right. Be sure to get plenty of rest. I'll come by once in a while to check up on you."
Sansa nodded wearily. "Remember what I said. Take it to heart."
Daveth nodded and stood up and left; but not before Shae and Jeyne brought the twins back inside the room to tend to Sansa. The Young Stag brushed aside such disconcerting thoughts from his mind and redirected his attention to important matters at hand.
—In the Great Hall—
By the time Daveth arrived in the throne room, he was calm enough to steady his thoughts and begin dispatching his forces to engage the Targaryen forces in battle. In the center of the room assembled some of his finest generals: Randyll Tarly, Stannis Baratheon, Kevan Lannister, Brynden Tully, Barristan Selmy, Jaime Lannister, Lucius Blackmyre and Yohn Royce exchanging banter amongst each other with Lord Hand Tyrion present.
In the center of the room stood a war table with a map of Westeros on top of it—each of it having individual chess pieces depicting the crowned stag of House Baratheon, rose of House Tyrell, huntsman of House Tarly, lion of House Lannister, trout of House Tully, falcon of House Arryn and orange pebbles of House Royce.
"How long until the northern forces joins us?" he asks.
Tyrion gazed at the map. "We fully expect the Young Wolf to lead his armies down the Neck for a month or two. Even with the increased numbers, we—"
"The issue so far is extending and maintaining our line of provisions our troops need to mobilize," Yohn cut him off.
"If we can't feed and supply our forces then the Targaryens are most likely to pick us off until the matter is resolved," Kevan concluded.
Daveth looked at the map. "Then we'll have to make do with what we have until then. What news of the Shield Islands?"
Randyll pointed at a section of the map off the west coast of the Reach. "The Redwyne navy is currently engaging the renegade Euron Greyjoy's fleet around the Straits near the mouth of the Mander," he said. "Lord Redwyne has dispatched his sons Horas and Hobber to serve under Ser Loras's command – with Lord Tyrell's 'blessing'. If Euron take the islands of Greenshield, Greyshield, Oakenshield and Southshield, then the Arbor will be vulnerable and our naval operations on the west coast will be crippled. Your newest Kingsguard, Ser Olyvar, already rode out this morning with two dozen men."
'Be careful out there, Olyvar. Don't underestimate him,' the Young Stag thought. "And our forces on the eastern front?"
"Our spies in the Stormlands report sightings of 500 sellswords from the Golden Company landing their troops on Estermont and are currently encroaching near Greenstone," Stannis said. "Lord Eldon's garrison is vastly outnumbered and won't have enough time to withdraw to the mainland. Connington believes because of House Estermont's blood ties to the Baratheons, they'd make valuable hostages."
"In other words, he won't take ordinary hostages. He'll kill off any relations to the Crown," Tyrion suggested.
"Has there been any other sightings?" asked Barristan.
"Not yet, but if the projected pathway is what we think they are… they'll gather the majority of their forces here at Griffin's Roost," Jaime pointed out. "Once they're at peak strength—"
"They mean to take Storm's End," Daveth realized.
Stannis said nothing but retained a firm scowl. "Whatever battle plan we discuss here, it had better be done since you already forced me to give up Dragonstone because of the Targaryens."
"If you had remained on Dragonstone, uncle, then you would've likely met the exact same fate as Harren the Black at Harrenhal: burned alive within your own halls. Be thankful that your family is out of there… alive and safe. Should the fighting ever come here, Daenerys will be in for quite a nasty surprise when she sees our city's inner and exterior defenses have been armed with modified scorpions and other long-range anti-dragon artillery placed along the ramparts and the ground."
"I doubt it'll stop one dragon, let alone three," the Blackfish mentioned.
Jaime shook his head. "That's why we've been making the necessary improvements, Blackfish. Why else would we have gone through all this trouble?"
"It takes more than numbers or siege weapons to win a fight," he countered. "You either win with either bold strategies or through sheer dumb luck."
Daveth moved several war pieces on the map. "What about our new recruits?"
"Our forces received 20,000 people volunteering for military service from King's Landing; last night we received at least 18,000 from Oldtown. We've been training them day and night," Lucius mentioned. "Varys reports more willful volunteers and conscripts from across the nation have been stepping up to the plate since the announcement. I'll spare you the details, but a lot of these people have never held a sword in their lives. Our officers are working to correct that."
"Can it be done in time?"
"We all know what's at stake. These recruits know the chances of seeing tomorrow are slim to none when faced with Unsullied soldiers, Dothraki bloodriders and three dragons. They're frightened, but they signed up anyway. We'll get it done, Your Grace."
"Then let's hope it'll be enough," Daveth redirected his gaze to the map.
On the Sunset Sea…
Ser Loras commanded at least 50 ships from the Redwyne Fleet currently en route to the Shield Islands. The Reach sailors report the islands are currently under siege and in need of immediate assistance. The Knight of the Flowers was confident in his men's skills and was determined to repel the raids on the Reach's shores. Highgarden sat astride the Roseroad and was near the banks of the Mander—if the ironborn take the Shield Islands, his family's ancestral castle would be vulnerable to attack.
The heir to the Arbor and Loras's first mate, Horas Redwyne, approached him.
"My lord," Horas spoke up, "there's a storm coming. Visibility will be limited."
"I can see that. Have the men ready; we'll drive the ironborn out of our shores," he replies.
As Loras stared out into the distance, he sharpened his sword on a whetstone as the sails brushed against the wind—picking up the pace his ships needed to close in. The drums were pounding as the Mander's Shield swept forward, the bow crashing against the waves as storm clouds began rolling in—the thundering boom beginning to echo across the sky. Loras knew it was only a matter of time before the elements turned against them and some of his sailors were new recruits and had not gathered their sea legs. Either way, they'd have to learn fast or risk getting tossed overboard.
—Below deck—
In their own private chamber, Ser Olyvar—now the newest member of the Kingsguard appointed to fill the vacancy left by the late Ser Meryn Trant as a reward for his loyal service and dedication—was enjoying whatever quality time with Tyene Sand. What started off as initial playful flirting and exchanging of glances had blossomed into a dalliance. The room was a dim yet large with a low ceiling lit with candles that flickered on a table.
"Ooooh~" Tyene moaned, grinding her hips against Olyvar's stiff manhood in a hypnotic motion. Her exotic and more revealing golden Dornish dress with side cutouts were discarded on the floor along with Olyvar's Kingsguard armor and white cloak.
The bed was squeaking as Tyene rode her lover for the night and pressed her exposed breasts against his chest; the air was moist and wet with the aroma of sex. Olyvar grunted as he gripped her butt. By custom it is forbidden for any knight of the Kingsguard to marry or even love with harsh punishments for violating their oaths of chastity; but Olyvar didn't care at the moment. If he could die now, he could die happy and content. Tyene's skin was smooth beneath his fingertips, as warm to the touch as sand baked by the Dornish sun. He held her hips and guided her up and down onto him. Olyvar raised his head and found Tyene's lips, claiming her mouth as she felt his free hand groping her left breast.
"Is that all you got, ser knight? C'mon, fuck me harder," the Dornish bastard whispered in his ear. "Yes, right there~," she made a whimpering sound, her womanhood squelching in delight with each pounding as Olyvar thrusted up into her again and again and again, until she screamed and arched her back. "More, oh more, yes, deeper, harder, yes you, I want you~"
"Ah Tyene, I'm gonna blow…" he warned.
"Do it. Come on. Give it to me. I want it all~" she hissed.
Tyene bit down hard onto Olyvar's shoulder, riding him faster and more aggressive. Olyvar groaned in pleasure, shutting his eyes tight and thrusting one final thrust deep into her wet, moist womanhood, burying his manhood up to the hilt in her sex and shot his seed deep inside her womb. Tyene felt the warmth of her lover's seed flow throughout her body as she convulsed in pleasure and gave into her own climax.
"Ahhh…" she moaned wistfully, her face expressing deep satisfaction before feeling Olyvar's manhood softening and going limp as he slid out of her.
Tyene smirked and rose up from his lap. She felt the Kingsguard's seed trickling down her thighs and walked casually over to the table to brew some moon tea before getting herself dressed. Olyvar reached to pick up his pants and tunic shirt; the room was hot, yet he shivered. He stood, though he had somewhat shaky legs.
"What're you making?" Olyvar asked between panted breaths.
"Moon tea," Tyene answered cheekily, drinking her concoction. "It's a contraceptive herb that helps us prevent unwanted pregnancies." She turned to him. "Tell me: how many lovers have you had before me?"
His face flushed and he scratched the back of his head embarrassed. "I… There wasn't any," he answered, stumbling over his words.
"Awww. You mean I was your first time?" she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Am I the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?"
"Yes, you are. Bastard or no."
"Good to hear; because we don't treat bastards terribly in Dorne."
"Hey, I'm my father's eighteenth son out of twenty-nine trueborn."
Tyene slightly grimaced at the visual thought of the Late Lord Frey's face. "That 96-year-old man's your father? How many bastards did he sire?"
"Honestly? Even I don't know – I don't even think he knows. Countless," Olyvar answered. "But I doubt even this'll make him at least somewhat humble."
"In what way?"
"I'm from a minor noble house in the Riverlands. Now that I'm a Kingsguard, it should've brought honor for House Frey. Still didn't stop father from gloating and claiming my accomplishments as his own when I told him the news."
Tyene pouted. "Fuck what some wrinkly old cunt has to say. Your successes are yours, not his. I mean look at you: you're more handsome than you look despite being called 'weasel'… and you're very good with your hands despite this being your first time with a woman."
"I-I… Tyene, you saucy minx," Olyvar spanked her butt.
Tyene gave a playful yelp before biting his ear. "Don't deny what you desire. You want a good girl, but you need the bad pussy. I can't wait to teach you more," she teased, smiling that wicked smile. "If mama can be my papa's paramour, I think you can be mine."
"I'm looking forward to it—"
*BAM!*
Olyvar and Tyene heard a large crash and felt the vessel rocking back and forth. Both stumbled slightly with Olyvar catching Tyene.
"What the hell was that?!" she exclaimed.
*BAM!*
There it was again. Both were suddenly on high alert and grabbed for each of their weapons; Olyvar raised his longsword while Tyene her twin poisoned daggers. It wasn't long until they heard warning bells emanating from the deck of the ship and men shouting.
"Enemy on the horizon! All hands, man your stations!"
Both Olyvar and Tyene rushed for the stairs to the upper deck; once climbing onto the deck, they were greeted to the scene of utter mayhem and carnage. There are flaming arrows, spitfires and flares shooting across the sky as the ironborn fleet quickly ensnared the small portion of the Redwyne navy—numbering around 100. Loras was caught off-guard just as much as Olyvar was.
But when Olyvar sees in the midst of madness, a large ship bearing a silver Greyjoy sigil with a red eye in the center came sailing out of the smoke and fog directly at the Mander's Shield.
"Brace for impact!" Loras shouted.
*WHAM!*
*CRASH!*
The Silence rammed into the Mander's Shield with enormous strength and velocity, knocking a few Reach sailors overboard. Oars snapped and splintered. Olyvar held onto Tyene and Loras fought to keep his balance. Glancing up above him, the Knight of the Flowers sees an armored gang plank descending with great speed.
"Rraaaahh!" Euron roared ferociously, riding on top of the plank as it crashes down onto the Mander's Shield—crushing a sailor in the process. Men donning the golden rose sigil of House Tyrell drew back in sheer terror, clutching swords and spears at their attackers.
Euron jumped off the plank and began cutting men down with his two-handed kraken-shaped battleaxe. "Ahahahaha!" he laughed maniacally.
"Get him, men!" Ser Loras shouted. "Hold him off!"
Dozens of ironborn marauders loyal to Euron rush behind him to board the Mander's Shield. Loras and Olyvar leap into battle, yelling and cursing at their enemies. Many people are killed instantly while more are running over the gang plank. Tyene throws a dagger and lodges it in her attacker's eye, killing him instantly. She moves to the body and retrieves her knife, quickly assuming a fighting stance – ready to strike out at the next, stabbing and twirling around three more ironborn with such fluidity.
*SLASH!*
*SWING!*
*CLASH!*
*SWISH!*
*PIERCE!*
*SWISH!*
*THRUST!*
*CLANG!*
*SLASH!*
Outnumbered and surrounded on all sides of the Sunset Sea, the Tyrell-Redwyne sailors fight dozens of ironborn as several ships are engulfed in flames. Flaming arrows are streaking in and men are shouting. A flaming bolt flies through the air and hits Loras's mast causing it to burst into flames. More men are rushing from Euron's flagship The Silence onto the deck. Elsewhere, Tyene slices one man and stabs another in the testicles. Olyvar turns and continues fighting, stopping to see Euron himself cutting through multiple men at ease.
Euron pulls his axe out of a dead man's skull and grins wickedly. "My my, but what a pleasant surprise this is turning out to be," he chuckled boastingly.
"So… you're the infamous Euron Greyjoy," Olyvar realized. "I've heard stories about you. They say you're the one who ruined King Daveth's life all those years ago."
"Oooh, so he's told you about me? I'm flattered. Still, think you're worthy to take me on?" he taunted.
Predictably, Olyvar charged at Euron with sword in hand. The two men exchange blows before Euron swings his battleaxe and throws the Kingsguard off-balance, allowing him to punch Olyvar in the face. Loras comes from behind and stabs Euron in the arm.
"Rgh! Sneaky boy," he hissed, regaining his footing to fend off both opponents.
Olyvar attempts to attack Euron again, but his attacks were thwarted and is knocked to the ground. Euron then takes the handle of his axe over Olyvar's head and pulls backwards—pressing it tightly against his throat to choke him. Olyvar gasps and hacks, gripping the weapon's wooden handle tightly in attempt to free himself. Loras jumps from the upper deck and onto Euron's back, knocking him down and drives a dagger into his shoulder.
The King of the Iron Islands shouted and headbutted the Knight of the Flowers in the face to get him off of him, but the sudden reaction was more than enough for Olyvar to slip free. The Kingsguard grasped around his throat and coughed violently in an attempt to get air into his lungs. Elsewhere, Tyene is slowly getting overpowered by the ironborn warriors, getting punched and tossed from behind—being rescued by Hobber Redwyne; the rescue was however brief as the younger Redwyne twin was slain by the ironborn marauders.
Nearly every ship in Loras's fleet is burning with flaming bolts being shot across the sky from Euron's fleet's spitfires. Olyvar finally breaths easily and grips his sword and rose back to his feet to see Loras and Euron still fighting and is being overpowered. Behind him, Tyene fought off her attackers before a spitfire explosion generated enough force in its shockwave to send her flying overboard. As the Dornish Sand Snake hit the water, Tyene was nowhere to be seen.
"Euron!" he shouted.
Euron easily threw Loras overboard and turned his sights towards Olyvar, brandishing his axe at him. However, Olyvsar froze in place. Men are being killed mercilessly and everything is on fire. One ironborn is using a rusty knife to cut out a Reach sailor's tongue. Euron noticed and begins smirking at him.
"What's the matter? All bark and no bite? Come and get me. Come on. I'm right here," he taunted.
Olyvar shook his head and rushed to attack again, but Euron grinned wickedly. 'You walked right into my trap, foolish boy. Now you pay the iron price by drowning.'
*KABOOM!*
One of The Silence's spitfires shot a flaming bolt at the upper deck of the Mander's Shield—which caught Olyvar off-guard and is sent overboard from the explosion into the ship. All he could hear before hitting the water was Euron's wicked laughter.
Although fortunate to not be currently wearing armor that would likewise drag him down to a watery grave, Olyvar swam back up to the surface and gasped for air. He shook his head and held onto some flotsam floating in the ocean, watching the ships burn as the remaining Redywne fleet sailing away into the distance. Nearby, Olyvar saw Tyene emerging from the Sunset Sea and coming over to join him with Loras following not too far behind them.
One of the fleeing ships was nearby to toss them a rope to bring them on board; once all three were plopped onto the deck, Olyvar stood on his hands and knees and looked back at the Iron Fleet. He frowned disappointed and somewhat ashamed. They were taken completely by surprise and had underestimated their opponent. Euron Greyjoy won the battle… and took the Shield Islands for himself. The Redwyne Fleet will need to recover and sail all of its ships to retake them. One of the wounded Reach sailors was able to write out an emergency letter and send a messenger raven to the Arbor for help.
'Forgive me, Your Grace,' Olyvar thought regretfully. 'I failed you, but I won't do so again. I swear it!'
Chapter End
Author's Note: And thus begins the official first battle of the three-way war: the First Battle for the Shield Islands. Goes to show how being overconfident and not being too informed of your enemy can one day bite you in the ass as they had to learn the hard way when Euron took advantage of the terrain and demonstrated his prowess in naval warfare. Although driven away and losing the Shield Islands, Olyvar is determined to retake the Shield Islands and redeem his honor.
On the side note, I figured it was time for Olyvar to hook up with Tyene—despite his vows as a Kingsguard and her being a baseborn. Figured it was bound to happen at some point, but I'll let you guys be the judge of that. Let me know the next battle you'd like to see in the reviews. Thoughts? Let me know.
Trickster79: Hahahahaha, that's what happens when one slacks in his job, XD. Welp, Davos isn't going to be happy to hear the news, but I am confident he'll eventually win the war.
C.E.W: The war has only just began, and Daveth's faction has bleed first. A portion of the Redwyne fleet destroyed, the more ships destroyed the better chance Daenerys will have in invading the Reach. Defeating Euron won't matter if he does enough damage to the fleet loyal to Daveth that they won't stand a chance against Daenerys. If Euron finds Loras then he has a valuable hostage against the Tyrells and has something to give in case Daenerys comes for him.
Here's an idea in case they are forced to meet Daenerys' forces in open field. They can use King Arthur's strategy from the First Knight movie. Set up camp in the night in an exposed area, set up hay soldiers which Dothraki wouldn't notice until its too late. Then the real army can set up in the trees, using the forest will give them the advantage of surprise and cover them from the dragons' sight especially the scorpions. Daveth and his army would have a chance for victory, all the while other friendly forces such as the Dornish or the Stormlands come in from the south to reinforce them. Just an idea.
Chris the Metis: It didn't go as plan but it is after all a first battle of the war anything could happen. However Devan has series of advantages over Daenerys; 1) He fighting on his home turf therefore people know the lay of the land and has short supply lines. 2) He has plenty good commanders which can conduct operations well to the point. 3) He has far more experience than Daenerys in the term of being the leader in war and peace. 4) He has loyalties of all the kingdom therefore he has the manpower and the resources. 5) Has a family of his own which make him determined to protect when the storm comes.
Bad Ass Female Fighter: Euron's such a pest.
Nbh: Great chapter on trials of tribulations of the oathkeeper, so can you please put up the next chapter to the story now please
Lex-in-Affex: I never knew I needed Tyene and Olyvar to be a couple until now. Thank you for this wonderfulness.
—You're welcome
Hear My Fury: Well, Euron's a tricky bastard, but I'm confident Daveth or hell even Stannis will devise a plan of attack that will destroy his fleet. Actually Stannis seems more likely as he's fought the Ironborn at sea twice now, so he should know Euron's next move
As for Olyvar and Tyene, I like it, hopefully she doesn't die. Also glad to see Loras live after that, I was kind of afraid Euron would take him prisoner and take him to Dany where she would force Mace to bending the knee to her in exchange for her son's life.
As for the Golden Company in the Stormlands, well, like your version of the Battle of the Bastards, when you had the whole Whispering Wood strategy play out there, I'd like to see a version of the Battle of Oxcross strategy, where Robb unleashes Grey Wind upon the cavalry and they spook the camp and the Northmen ride down the men there. I say this because Robb hasn't done that particular move yet in the story, unless I'm wrong. This could also be where either Strickland or Connington meets their end like Daenerys losing the Tyrells and Martells and becoming more desperate at this point.
RHatch89: Awesome update as always :)
—Thanks
Bio RL: Robb was also a good strategist, I hope he has a good participation in this war.
As for Olyvar's relationship if it is not public, I do not see the problem, but if it is public, I would have to remove him from the royal guard to set an example.
Guest #1: I need my weekly fix or i will turn to dust