Disclaimer: I do not own anything else except for my own creations and original content.
Note: This story is an AU, NOT CANON! Do not expect this to be completely in line with the books or series. Much of this is being rewritten and changed to fit my story, including things like time periods, events, and character portrayals.
"Talking"
"Talking / Whispering"
"Spell Casting / R'hllor Speaking"
A Game of Dynasties: The Cleric
Chapter 6: Changing Tides
The Sunset Sea, a staple of life for those who lived on Fair Isle, was a great expanse of water that spread out across the western side of Westeros. Going all the way from the Bay of Ice and Bear Island, down the Ironman's Bay of the Iron Islands, across the entire Westerlands coastline, and reaching as far down as the prosperous lands of the Reach where it joined with the Summer Sea.
It was by this sea that the growing population of Fair Isle gathered fish for eating, and sent out and received merchant ships for trading in produce and resources that couldn't be found on the isle.
Normally, the Sunset Sea was a peaceful, tranquil place upon which many of the isle's inhabitants could look outwards to and enjoy the serenity of the calm waters as they went about their daily lives.
However, today was not such a day. Because, for the first time in recent memory to all those who had moved there, the isle was faced with a powerful threat that endangered the lives of all those who called the place home.
That threat? A large fleet of ships, bearing black sails with golden squids on them, sailed towards the isle without notice or provocation. The pounding of war drums, like the heartbeat of a massive beast bearing down upon them, echoed in the distance… as the twenty-strong fleet of reaver longships belonging to House Greyjoy sailed towards the isle's port.
Their intentions were clear.
This was no small raiding party of a few lone Ironborn captains looking to take salt wives and steal cargo to sell for gold.
No… this was a true invasion force. Sent as a declaration of war by the Iron Islands, and meant as a way to strike the first blow against the six other Kingdoms, by pillaging the resources of the rapidly growing isle for themselves in preparation for a long war ahead.
…or so they thought.
Onboard the Iron Victory, Sunset Sea
The Greyjoy Rebellion, 285 AC
- Three Years Later -
The Iron Victory, built as the flagship of Victarion and Euron Greyjoy's portion of the massive, 100-strong Iron Fleet commissioned by Balon Greyjoy, was as great a vessel as any ironborn could ask for.
It's massive sails, black as the darkest of nights and gleamed ominously with its kraken sigil, were made for swiftness and ease of travel across vast distances of ocean. Allowing its crew to sail like phantoms in the dead of night, and race across the ocean's surface like a shark smelling blood in the daytime.
Its great hull, made of thick planks of ironwood hewn from the famous ironwood trees native to the Iron Islands, allowed them to store as much treasure and stolen goods as the ship could carry, all the while maintaining a dominant presence out on the sea as it sailed at the head of its flotilla made up of twenty smaller longships.
The ship was a thing of pride and beauty to the ironborn, and its presence today as they prepared to strike the first blow against the other Six Kingdoms would be the rallying cry their people needed as they fought to bring back the Old Ways of raiding, pillaging, and raping.
The Targaryen dynasty had been a booted heel upon their neck for decades, preventing them from carrying out the Old Ways in which their forefathers had been raised on, and chaining them to their islands like savage, rabid dogs that should have been put a long time ago.
But the Dragons were gone now, and the Stags were too busy making nice at the other Houses and dealing with the aftermath of their war to focus on keeping the ironborn down. And so now their time had come.
And who better to lead them, than the sons of the Lord of the Iron Islands? Whose vary own House words are: "We Do Not Sow".
"Ready yourselves, Men!" A grizzled man with a thick beard proclaimed as he marched across the deck of the Iron Victory, his steps sure and steady in spite of the ocean water plashing across the floor and the movements of the ship as it swayed side to side. "Today is the beginning of a new chapter for our people!"
Briefly pausing in his speech to help one of the many sailors racing across the bow in a sort of organized chaos as the two quickly tied down one of the rope lines that came down from the sails, Victarion clapped the man he helped on the back as he continued on towards the deck.
"Today's the day we show these main-landers what it means to pay the Iron Price!" He called out as a spray of water shot up over the railings and peppered his body with droplets. The water only seeming to invigorate him more as his eyes bounced too and frow, checking to make sure the others were doing their jobs correctly.
"Today… every man here will be able to claim for himself as much gold as he can carry, and as many Salt Wives as he can manage…" he grinned, "And I don't know about you lot, but I can handle plenty!"
As he stepped up the stairs onto the deck, the sailors manning the ship roared out a laughing cheer loud enough to be heard by the other ships around them as they made ready for the raid ahead. The kraken sigils engraved on their makeshift, patchy leather armor clear as day as they moved about the rocking ship with ease.
The turbulence of the ocean - while difficult for others - was child's play for any true ironborn; who spent their lives onboard ships just like this learning how to sail in any weather, or on any vessel.
At Victarion's side, a younger man of similar build and features crossed his arms and smiled a cruel face as he stared out across the deck at the small island in the distance. Their similar features a clear sign of their relation, as the two brothers looked upon Fair Isle with savage glee.
"Prepare yourselves men!" Victarion shouted as he brushed a few long, soaked strands of greying hair out of his weathered and sun-dried face. "This is but a taste of what is in store for our people with our brother Balon at the helm, and the Drowned God at our side! And soon, when my brother sits upon the Seastone Chair, all of Westeros will know what it means to fear the color of our sails once more."
"For what is dead may never die! But rises again, harder and stronger!" He chanted, using a well-known proverb of the Faith of the Drowned God that his men repeated as if it were a prayer.
"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!"
"What is dead may never die." Victarion's younger brother Euron mumbled half-heartedly beside him, never having been one for faith or a believer in religions. But was also not foolish enough to tempt fate on such a momentous day by ignoring traditions.
"ENEMY SHIPS SPOTTED!"
Hearing the warning call from the watchman in the crow's nest at the top of the massive main sail, the two brothers turned their eyes as one towards the distance as Fair Isle came closer into view. Revealing a fleet of ships less than half of theirs in number, five by the count of them, but with a gigantic warship at the head.
It took but a single look at the massive golden figurehead of the lead warship that glinted brightly in the sunlight for the two brothers to figure out who the opposing side's captain was, and for a flicker of doubt to cloud Victarion's features as an odd heat emanating from the isle suddenly dried his body.
He'd heard rumor that the Lord of Fair Isle was a man of faith to a Fire God. But as a practitioner of a faith that worshipped a Sea God, he'd never thought to worry about it…until now.
Unaware of his older brother's concerns, Euron's grin stretched seemed to seemingly impossibly lengths as a feral bloodlust began to well up inside of him.
While the older, religious brother was beginning to have second thoughts about the attack. The younger, less pious brother ignored the slight heat that came from their enemy and dried the sea water off his clothes as he began barking orders to the men below. Calling on them to prepare for battle as the two fleets raced towards each other on the open seas.
… …
- Godwin -
I could feel it the moment that the Iron Fleet began their approach towards Westeros.
The feeling was like that of a tempest just waiting off the horizon, growing in strength with every year that Robert Baratheon failed to reign in those that the Targaryens had kept in check under his new reign. Too focused he was on securing his marriage to a noticeably unhappy, but reluctantly willing Lyanna Stark to care about his kingdom that was fraying at the seams.
The man was a great general on the battlefield, and a dangerous warrior with his warhammer in hand, of that there was no doubt. But he lacked the finer details a true King needed in order keep seven different kingdoms in line.
And now, that negligence has come back to haunt us, with the uprising of Balon Greyjoy and his brothers against their Lord father and the rest of Westeros.
Which is why I now stand at the helm of The Pride, a massive warship the likes of which the Seven Kingdoms has never seen before - thanks to my knowledge from my previous life - and at the head of a fleet of ships that I've been building up over the last three years while I waited for their eventual attack.
It's unfortunate that my presence has created such a massive ripple in this world that the Greyjoy Rebellion is now happening almost 4 years before it was canonically meant to happen, because I could have used that time to bolster my growing force even more than it already has.
But that's the unfortunate side effect about playing the Game of Thrones; not everything goes the way you want it too.
Not that it means I've been resting on my laurels after receiving that vision from R'hllor.
These past three years have given me plenty of time to begin building up a force of my own, including increasing the numbers of my soldiers from the 150 Lionsguard I used to have, to now a growing army of over 1,000 strong soldiers, and nearly 5 times that number in commonfolk people living on Fair Isle as the place has seen some rapid expansions during that time.
In fact, it's safe to say that - while my forces are not strong enough to contend against the likes of a full 20,000 manned force that one of the Seven Kingdoms can bring to bear - they're more than enough to solidify my new reign as Lord of Fair Isle.
And as a first test of my strength, two of the three Greyjoys behind all of this have come to try and take what I've built with a portion of the Iron Fleet at their command.
"Raiders," I spit out as my body sways in time with the rocking of the humongous, red-painted hull of the warship I'm standing on. The galleon-style ship's entire design having been built to be as strong and as powerful as this world's civilization is able to produce with a limitless budget on hand. "How the Seven Kingdoms have allowed these parasites to remain is beyond my understanding."
"The Iron Islands have never been a particularly powerful kingdom," Cersei says as she quietly walks up to stand beside me. "And the number of soldiers necessary to get rid of them has always been considered to be too great a cost for how little reward there is to gain from destroying them."
Dressed in a similar armor-style as myself, with red and gold armor decorated in lion's sigils that's been tailored to fit her slimmer build, and with her golden-blonde hair tied behind her head in a intricately braided plait, my lover/older sister looks every bit like a warrior-maiden of old as she stands beside me with a sword strapped to her side. Her emerald eyes glaring across the sea at the fleet of black sails as she gently grabs my hand and interlocks our gauntleted fingers together.
"And yet… instead of others, who are the ones that allowed the ironborn to do as they please for so long, being the ones who have to deal with them, now the problem has fallen into our laps to deal with." I say with a sigh.
Shrugging my shoulders, I watch with Cersei beside me as the men around us move about the deck of The Pride with precision and efficiency. Carrying out their duties in short order as they make ready for battle.
As the ship glides across the ocean top, the gleaming golden lion figurehead glints in the sunlight as the large crimson sails above us, bearing a flaming heart surrounding a lion, flap in the ocean breeze as we sail forwards.
"Are you ready, Dear Sister?" I ask softly. Tightening my grip on her hand as adrenaline slowly filters into my system. "This will be your first true taste of battle, and it won't be an easy one."
Feeling her hand squeeze mine back, a surge of pride fills me as I catch her fearless gaze as she stares at the enemies before us, before she turns and locks eyes with me assuredly.
"This is what you've trained me for, Beloved." Cersei replies. "With you by my side, and R'hllor watching over us, there's nothing that we cannot accomplish."
Saying that, her posture straightens even more than it was before as she tilts her head upwards imperiously with a brave look on her face…that lasts only moments before her full lips crack into a mischievous smile.
"And don't worry…" she adds teasingly," if you're feeling scared, don't be. Your older sister will be here to protect you."
Reaching up with her free hand, she gently caresses the spot on her armor where her stomach is as she throws in one last remark before the lookout in the crow's nest's yell interrupts us. "…After all, I can't have you getting hurt when you've yet to put a child in me."
"ENEMY SHIPS SPOTTED!"
King's Landing, Crownlands
The Small Council
- Same Time -
Seated around a grand table within the Small Council's chambers of the Red Keep, a group of the most politically powerful men in all the Seven Kingdoms sat in eerie silence as they listened to the aging voice of the Grand Maester read from a scroll that had been delivered to the capital that very morning.
"…the Seven Kingdoms will pay the Iron Price for the atrocities committed against our people, and the seas will run red with the blood of all those who do not follow the Drowned God…" Grand Maester Pycelle scowled beneath the greyed strands of his long beard as he rolled up the scroll and handed it over to the man beside him to read. "…So says Balon Greyjoy, the rightful King of the Iron Islands, and the rightful Lord Reaper of the Pyke."
"Arrogant little shit, isn't he?" King Robert Baratheon spat out as he was handed the declaration of war, reading the words for himself before he crumpled the paper up into a ball with his fist and banged it loudly against the table. "Damned Squids! Have we not dealt with enough wars as it is?"
Around the table, a general murmur of agreement rose up.
"The current Lord Greyjoy, Balon Greyjoy's father, has proven been more receptive of the current status quo than the previous Lords of the Iron Islands. Something his sons appear to disagree with." Varys said as he sat near the far end of the table pondering the news.
His position in the Small Council was tenuous at best thanks to his former servitude to the Targaryens, and it was only due to a lack of suitable replacements for the title of Master of Whispers that he'd been able to keep his current position.
Which meant that the bald eunuch had to be very careful in picking and choosing his every word whilst in front of the King, lest the man order his execution.
"Perhaps…" He said as if more to himself than the others in the room, who listened in all the same. "If Lord Quellon Greyjoy were to make a public statement denouncing his sons' actions-…"
"That will be hard to do with so many ironborn having already flocked to Balon's banner." An amused Renly said, cutting off the Spider's next words. "From what I hear, Balon and his brothers have already gathered a fleet of ships one-hundred strong, and with more than enough men to sail each of them, who have all rallied behind him and his cause. Lord Quellon's words will do nothing but fall on deft ears."
"Then what are you suggesting, Lord Renly?" Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, asked with an aghast look on his face. "That the Crown simply do nothing and let the ironborn raid our shores?"
"Well, no. Not nothing…" Renly trailed off.
"ENOUGH!" Robert barked, taking a long sip of wine as his once strong features - that were now beginning to soften and round out - glared menacingly around the table. Silencing the others who made to add their own thoughts to the matter. "If the Squids want to make play at war, then I'll show them what a real war looks like."
Around the table, those present shifted in their seats uncomfortably as they glanced at each other to see who would speak up first.
If there was one thing that they could all agree on, it was that King's Landing - and by extension, Westeros itself - was ill prepared for another war at a time like this while they were still working to fix the problems left behind from the last one.
"Your Grace." Pycelle said with a flicker of nervousness. Speaking for the group as the voice of reason. "Perhaps the Crown might be best served though looking into more diplomatic solutions, before resorting to bloodshed."
Seeing the harsh look Robert sent him, the elderly Maester sunk back into his seat with a pleading look towards the other members at the table, knowing that any more words from him would only anger the King further. Having failed at his attempt, Pycelle left it up to the others to make the man see sense.
"…If I might be so bold." Varys began when it became clear no one else was going to say anything. "My little birds tell me that Tywin Lannister's son - Ser Godwin, the new Lord of Fair Isle - has gathered a small fleet of ships to him in preparation for dealing with Balon's brothers."
With all eyes now turned towards him at the sudden news, he placed his clasped hands that were hidden within their long sleeves upon the table and continued.
"The younger Greyjoys, Victarion and Euron, seem to have taken a small portion of the Iron Fleet, some 20 ships in total, and made sail towards Fair Isle." He said. "It seems they're intent on raiding the isle for its resources, before moving on to join up with their brother's larger fleet that's currently headed for Lannisport."
"It would be a good test for the young lion cub," Renly spoke up when he saw the indecisive look on his elder brother's face at the news. "I can't imagine he'll get many chances like this to step out of his father and elder brother's shadows and prove himself." Glancing around the table at the others with a smirk, he asked. "What's say we let him fight it out, and see if he proves himself worthy of his knighting?"
"A bold gamble," Varys remarked.
"But a good one." Robert countered with a grunt. His hand stroked at the thick black beard on his face in thought. "Hm. Very well... We'll let the lions and the squids fight it out amongst themselves. But should things no go well for the lad, we'll need to have the Royal Fleet ready to sail at a moment's notice."
Turning his slightly red-cheeked face towards Pycelle, he took another sip of wine to wet his lips before he ordered. "Send a raven to Stannis. Tell the Master of Ships," he mocked, "to be prepared to set sail from Dragonstone the moment he gets my order."
Getting an obedient nod from the Grand Maester, the King leaned back in his larger chair with a sigh as he grumbled out. "This'll be the last chance I give him not to royally fuck things up… If he fails again, we'll need to find ourselves a new Master of Ships."
"As you say, Your Grace."
"Good." He nodded, pleased. "The Spider stays… The rest of you? Leave."
His order given, the other members of the Small Council did as commanded and left the room quietly. The sounds of their chairs scraping against the floors as they were pushed in the only noise to be heard for several moments until the door to the room closed behind the last to leave.
"Now then," Robert said as he turned his attention fully to Varys. "Should the boy manage to fend off the Greyjoys, I'll need a message sent to Fair Isle without drawing attention to it."
"Easily done, Your Grace." The eunuch replied with an inclining of his head. "But… might I ask what message you wish me to send him?"
Waiting to give his response until after he'd taken a long, final sip of the last of his wine, Robert placed the emptied cup back down on the table and stared at the drink's reflective golden surface for a moment before he eventual revealed, "Inform the Lord of Fair Isle that, should he prove victorious, his King offers him a position here at King's Landing… on the Small Council."
Surprised at the announcement, Varys couldn't help but ask. "The Small Council?"
"We're still missing a Master of Coin, aren't we?" He shot back. "From what I've heard, the lad's proven to be quite a deft hand with gold, and has shown himself to be quite the interesting man. Even more so than his older brother. And with how things have been between Lyanna and I… this place could use the entertainment."
Briefly hinting at the real reason behind his request, Varys knew without it being said that Robert was leaving out the part about how things between him and his "one true love" hadn't been quite as wonderful as he'd expected they would be before they'd gotten married a year ago.
As it turned out, the She-Wolf wasn't thrilled to hear about Robert's prolific sex life before and during the war when it came out that he'd sired more than few bastards throughout the Seven Kingdoms. And she certainly wasn't happy to learn that the man thought he could still bring women into their bedchamber after he'd become king when she'd returned one evening to find a couple of whores in their marital bed.
If his little birds were to be believed, Lyanna Stark had proven herself to be every bit a descendant of the wolfsblood as her brothers had been, as she howled in rage at the baffled Robert for the whole castle to hear while she bodily threw the terrified whores out of the room with surprising strength.
After that, things between the King and Queen had been rocky ever since. And with Ned Stark having returned to Winterfell to lead his people as Warden of the North, and to help raise his firstborn son by Catelyn, his surprise bastard son by an unknown woman, and whatever future children the two might come to have, the suddenly sullen King had little else to do but drink his days away.
"Very well…" Varys eventually nodded. "As you wish."
Rising from his seat, the Spider strode out of the room with quiet footsteps as he struggled to keep the frown off his face.
If there was one thing he hated, perhaps even more so than ineffective rulers who brought nothing but suffering down upon the small-folk due to their ineptitude; it was magic.
Gods… he was almost starting to miss the days of the Mad King Aerys.
At least the Mad King was paranoid enough to understand his disdain for magic users and their ilk.
Robert seemed to neither understand, nor care for, the danger that a magic user presented to the world. Only what sort of entertainment it could bring him.
Nonetheless, he would do as he was bid. If only to keep himself on the King's good side long enough for him to convince him of why having a magic user around the Red Keep was a terrible idea.
Off the coast of Fair Isle, Sunset Sea
The Greyjoy Rebellion, 285 AC
As the small fleet of twenty ironborn ships sailed towards the much fewer five Lannister ships, their drums of war pounding across the open air as a common form of scare tactic, their victory seemed all put assured even before the two sides began their attacks… and in any other situation would have been guaranteed.
That is… if they'd been facing off against a different opponent.
As they sailed close enough to spot the numerous men aboard the decks of the Lannister ships, the ironborn were caught off guard by the sudden blaring of a horn coming from the massive lead ship that seemingly did nothing.
A wave of mocking laughter could be heard from more than a handful of ironborn ships as they jeered and laughed at their opponents, believing the sound to have been nothing more than a fearful on their opponent's part to counteract the terror they were likely feeling from the sound of the ironborn's drums pounding.
But that mocking quickly came to an abrupt end… when two separate groups of five ships began to sail out from behind the isle, and approached the already too-far-in ironborn fleet from either side. Boxing them in, and creating a wave of panic amongst the ships' crews, as the captains struggled to get their men back into line.
- Godwin -
Watching my plan begin to play itself out perfectly as my ships approach the ironborn from both flanks, I have to hand it to myself for having come up with this whole strategy in the first place.
I'll be the first one to admit that I'm no naval battle strategist.
In fact, my knowledge of battlefield tactics comes almost entirely from what I've learned under Tywin's tutorage, or from what memories I still have when I watched a lot of war movies in my previous lifetime.
Sadly, however, after having spent almost 20 years now in Westeros, what memories I have of my former life and the 21st century lessons I learned along the way have started to fade. Much of the stuff that I didn't care about in my old life - like naval tactics - were some of the first thing I forgot as the years went by, and it's only thanks to a one of my all-time favorite movies, 300, that I even thought up this move.
I could have potentially waited until the battle actually began before unveiling this trump card of mine, and likely route the enemy at a time when they thought victory was at hand… but I also like living. And waiting until after we'd begun a 5v20 fight in order to even the playing field seems like a sure-fire way to die at a young age.
Again. I'm no expert on these things. And neither is Cersei, or Melisandre for that matter - who's currently waiting for us back at Fair Isle's port since she's not even able to fight in a battle like Cersei can.
If there's one thing I can be thankful to the ironborn for, it's that their rebellion has opened my eyes to the realization that I'm going to need more than just soldiers if I want to fight against the Night King and his undead armies. I'm going need strategists, planners, commanders, lieutenants, and all manner of other supporting positions if I'm to be as effective a military leader as I'll need to be.
"They're coming," I say as Cersei and I release our grip on each other's hands and begin relaying our orders to the men. "PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"
"Archers!" Cersei shouts, falling into her role as commander of our archery units, while I can focus on commanding the ship itself as the leading Iron Fleet ships draw near. Briefly catching a few of the ironborn ships breaking away from the pack to try and deal with my other ships out flanking them while the others continue to charge straight at us. "Nock your arrows!"
"May the Lord of Light watch over us." I whisper, casting Bless over our ships to help improve our odds as the sounds of dozens of arrows are drawn from their quivers and nocked to corresponding bow strings.
Feeling adrenaline begin to make its way through my body as the sounds of the drums grow loud enough that they pound in my ears and make me mistakenly believe for a moment that it's my very own heartbeat, I take a deep breath to calm my nerves as my first ever sea battle is about to begin.
"…Draw!"
Taking comfort from the sound of Cersei's voice, who only hours ago was moaning out my name for all to hear when I took her upon our bed from behind not long after we'd woken up for breakfast, I say a silent prayer for our survival as the moment reaches its peak and the noise of everything happening around us suddenly fades away.
Knowing that the ironborn are likely planning to do the same thing, and will have all their eyes turned towards The Pride as the head of this group, I step forwards and cross the deck of the ship while drawing my magic outwards and directing it towards my hand as I lay it on the large golden lion figurehead at the bow.
When I feel as if the enemy are close enough, I use my connection to the figurehead to cast Light and turn the easily spotted lion into a blazing beacon of light that instantly blinds all those looking at it.
Across the open ocean, the sounds of ironborn shouting in pain as their eyes are burned by the bright light becomes the signal for our forces to act, as Cersei's voice immediately cuts through the tension like a knife.
"LOOSE!"
As one, dozens of bowstrings snap as our archers loose their arrows, followed swiftly by the sounds of hundreds more coming from our other ships as a hail of wooden shafts soar into the sky. Their gleaming metal points glinting in the sunlight as they begin to arch and fall back down onto the opposing ships below.
Still reeling from the temporary blindness, many of the ironborn ships at the front of the fleet can do little else but try and stumble for cover as a rainfall of arrows comes pouring down on top of them. The few men aboard the first three ships who weren't blinded only managing to get one or two arrows off a piece before they fall to a well-placed arrow.
"Again!" Never one to miss an opportunity, Cersei immediately calls on the archers to continue firing as we manage to render the first few ships of the Iron Fleet inactive as the captains and crew are killed almost entirely killed off.
Hearing the sounds of arrows being loosed coming not from our ships, but from the ironborn's, I quickly use Thaumaturgy to create a small breeze that adds to the one pushing our ships forward, and manage to just barely nudge a large portion of them away from us and into the sea as our troops return fire.
As the next ship of the Iron Fleet loses its crew to a barrage of arrows, I take a moment to check on the progress of my flanking ships, and frown as I spot one of them beginning to sink. Their hull nearly destroyed from an ironborn ship that had given up upon losing most of its crew and had rammed the ship head on.
Doing a quick tally of our numbers as another ship of ours goes down in return for taking out another 2 more ironborn, what was once a 15v20 battle has rapidly shifted to a 14v14… make that 13v14 battle, as our initial surprise attacks help to even out the odds a little bit.
Though, now that they've been used up, what follows is a battle of attrition between our two forces.
One the ironborn side, their men have the advantage of being experienced sailors who have practically spent their whole lives aboard ships, and easily know their way around the open seas better than anything our men can hope to achieve.
Whereas on our side, we have the better built ships, the better armor, and the support of my magic to help even the odds. But where our side truly has the advantage, is in our unity.
Unlike the Iron Fleet, which is made up of dozens of individual ships sailing under captains that have only ever sailed alone and fought for themselves, our fleet is a single, cohesive unit that have been trained in how to fight together and work as a team.
It's like Robert Baratheon said in the series… though paraphrased and reinterpreted to fit this situation… the greater number isn't five individual armies (or in this case, 20 separate ships) fighting side by side; it's the one real army, trained to fight as one and united together by a single cause, that's the greater of the two.
And in this moment, as the arrows continue to rain down upon both sides, and ships continue to sink around us one after the other, I know our side is the one that will emerge victorious this day.
…it has to.
Bonus Scene
- That Morning -
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the Lords and Lady's chambers, intermittently joined by the sounds of grunts and moans of pleasure that were heard by several young maids waiting to clear the room who stood on the other side of the door and giggled and whispered amongst each other as they peaked through the keyhole of the door or between the crack in the door and its frame.
Managing to catch glimpses of what was happening inside, their faces blushed scarlet red with arousal as they watched the naked, fit body of their Lord thrusting against the shapely backside of his sister as she cried out from her position on her hands and knees.
Her tits, large and perky and glistening with sweat, swayed with his every thrust as he gripped her thin waist tight enough to leave marks on her pale, flawless skin. Her lips, full and pouty, were spread open in what could only be described by the older maids as an utterly whorish manner unbefitting of a Lady as she moaned and begged her brother to keep going.
So lost the two lovers were in their pleasure, that neither of them cared to mention that they could both quite clearly hear the giggling and whispers of the maids watching them, and in fact drew greater enjoyment out of being watched by others as their incestuous fucking grew faster and rougher.
Even when the older sister came noisily around the thick cock splitting her drenched folds, and her arms lost their strength and she fell face first against the bedsheets with her ass still up in the air, the two continued to fuck well into the morning as the younger brother's stamina proved more than a match for her alone.
Until, that is, his hip thrusts began to quicken and his breathing finally shortened.
"…on me!" The golden-blonde woman gasped out breathlessly as she flipped her body over and spread herself out nude before him. Allowing his eyes to feast of the gorgeous sight of her glistening fat tits as they jiggled with her every breath, and begged him with needy eyes to finish on her as he pumped his glistening cock directly over her body. "Cum all over me, Beloved!"
"F-Fuck, Sister!" The golden-blond man grunted out, moments before a spray of golden liquid began to shoot out of the throbbing tip and coated her willing body from her neckline to her thighs.
Gasps too loud to be considered inconspicuous came from the witnessing maids, as they watched and subtly touched themselves to the sight of the lady getting showered in enough liquid gold that when the spray finally trickled off, and the two made to rise from the bed in order to shower, the gold dripped down her body and glistened off her every curve as if she was some divine, golden queen brought back to life from the time of the Age of Heroes.
Someone so beautiful and profound, that they were both entirely in awe of her majestic beauty, while also being utterly jealous of their own lacking appearance when they compared themselves to her and fell woefully short.
And when the Lord made his way towards the door where they were gathered, with his long, thick member swaying between his legs as a small droplet of gold cum dripped onto the stone floors, the maids all turned an even brighter shade of red… as he threw the door open without hesitation and caught them in the act of peeping.
"…the bedsheets are in need of cleaning." He said with an amused grin on his face, entirely uncaring of the half-dozen pairs of eyes fixed solely on his spent cock as it dangled before their eyes.
"As is the room in general." He muttered after catching sight of just how much ruin he and his sister had done to in during their nightly…activities. And then even more once the sun rose a whole two hours ago. "I trust you all can handle that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Getting a round of exaggerated nods, he shook his head with a chuckle and turned without comment to follow the dripping gold goddess into the nearby bathing room where a new round of moans and grunting soon followed.
Sounds with stirred another round of giggles and whispers as the maids went about cleaning the room. Pausing every so often to peek in on the two lovers whilst rubbing their thighs together needily, before reluctantly being pulled back to work by one of the others.
It wouldn't be until several hours later, when the sun was close to reaching midday, that the couple would eventually be disturbed by the arrival of a messenger who would reveal to them that the Iron Fleet was only a scant few hours' sail away from the isle, and would be there soon after mid-day had passed.
- END -
Author's Notes:
And that's Chapter 6!
Aaaaaand we're back again with another chapter! Things are finally starting to kick up a notch in Westeros, and stuff is going to get quite interesting for Godwin here in the next chapter; what with a few subtle and not-so-subtle hints buried in this chapter about what's to come. Particularly some major changes to canon about to take center stage beyond what's already been done, that'll play into his rise to power.
While I haven't exactly gone into everything that's happened during the timeskip in this chapter, don't fear! There will be a deeper explanation coming in the next one that'll cover a bit more of everything going on both with Godwin and the Lannisters, as well as with Westeros as a whole, since a lot has progressed in such a short span of time.
Big things are coming for this story! With some deeper delving into the more magical/divine side of things in the near future, and further progression of the plot that'll take us towards one of the bigger conflicts in the distant future, that will prelude the final battle against the Night King at the end.
That's not to say this story is half-way done! There's more than enough I can write about to cover at least another 15 chapters easily. But it's more like there's going to be several smaller conflicts that fill in the space between the major ones to help flush out the story and keep things progressing.
Hope you all are still liking it so far! Thanks for checking out my story!