AN: Not a lot of reviews for the last chapter but I appreciated the ones I got all the same.
Birdy1210: Yeah I thought about having the Dragon's do the deed and even wrote a scene where that was the outcome but it just didn't sit right with me after the first scene where the fallen from the battle were burned. Plus I've read a fic where Cersei is burned to death as punishment for her crimes. I will answer you big question; next chapter we will see what remains of the Brotherhood without Banners and Arya reunited with the first of her siblings.
naleight: I'm glad everything worked for you. It was a fun chapter to write and was definitely an Arya-centric chapter. Dealing with Cersei in the way I did took a while to come to but I couldn't justify having Arya kill her in Eddard's memory when Daenerys passed the sentence. I like writing the scenes between Arya and Tyrion because they are two of the characters that experienced things in the Seven Kingdoms during the War of Five Kings. While it gave them entirely different experiences it is easier for them to relate. I can definitely understand while the scene with Aegon made you laugh as I chuckled reading it. Arya and Aerion's first time was not an easy scene to write as I wanted it to be sensual without falling into the realm of pornography and yet still be descriptive enough that you feel like you are actually in the moment with the characters. As always thank you for your review, I love reading them.
wawo20: Thank you for the review and I think it's awesome that this is your first GoT only fanfic. I hope I keep it great for you.
Preparations were made quickly and just a day after the war council was held 20,000 men of the Reach waited outside the gates of the city for the command to begin a march down the Rose Road back toward Bitterbridge where they would meet the fleet that would take them to the Iron Islands. It was before dawn when Aerion and Arya made their way from their quarters. Funny how I'm already thinking of them as our quarters. The pair spent last night much the same way as the night prior. She enjoyed the fact that her now restless nights were more invigorating than exhausting.
They reached the Great Hall and found the Tyrell men exchanging farewells with Margaery. The pair was quickly pulled into the exchange when Margaery noticed their presence. She smiled kindly at Arya as they approached, "Good morning Lady Stark, I was hoping I would see you before you left today."
"And why was that, my Lady?" Arya asked curiously.
"Your sister and I became good friends while she was in the capital, I thought you would like to know she spoke of you frequently. Her memories were always fond but I'm sorry to say she thought you long dead."
"Funny how things have changed then," Arya said pensively, "I can only hope that my sister yet lives. Of course had she not been falsely accused of Joffrey's murder I have no doubt she would still be here in the capital."
"That was a terrible business, only a fool would think your sister capable of such a thing but Cersei was quite insistent that her escape from the city was evidence enough of her complicity." Margaery said calmly, her voice giving away nothing.
You have no idea what a wolf is capable of. The simple fact of the matter was that Arya didn't care whether Sansa had anything to do with Joffrey's death. It wouldn't exactly surprise Arya from what she had heard of Sansa's treatment after their father's death. If anything, it would have been appropriate that a Stark killed the bastard. Arya only hoped that her sister was still alive but she knew that if she found her alive and well somewhere she would not be the same person.
Arya gave a small smile at Margaery's comment despite her inner thoughts, "Thank you Lady Margaery, I am sure my sister would be glad to know of your faith in her. Hopefully someday you will be able to tell her yourself. I just rejoice that someone removed the stain that was Joffrey from the world." If Margaery was surprised by Arya's bluntness she didn't show it.
"I agree." That wasn't what Arya was expecting from the ever diplomatic Tyrell, "When first the proposal was made that would see me become Queen I had heard stories of his temperament," the word was said slowly and was clearly a replacement for something more harsh, "I thought I could change him and mellow his less pleasant qualities; I was wrong. Marriage with him would have been awful, and while my relationship with Tommen may only be that of friendship, what with his youth when first we were married, he is still kind and considerate and that is far better than what I would have gotten with his brother."
Nobody could argue that but I imagine that you appreciated his pliability as much as his kindness. "I think that would be plain for anybody to see Lady Margaery."
Margaery turned to eye Aerion appraisingly, "I have heard of your history and accomplishments Ser Aerion, is it true that you are the descendant of the last Blackfyre." Aerion resisted the urge to fidget under her lingering gaze. Next to him, Arya actually found it funny. She is probably trying to think of a way he can help her regain her lost crown. Margaery may be kind but she still has her thorns.
"I am no knight my Lady, but yes it is true I am the descendant of Maelys the Monstrous." Aerion replied evenly.
Before Margaery had an opportunity to question him further Garlan guffawed beside them. "Aerion surely you are joking, any man with your skill must be a knight. Ser Barristan surely would have knighted you in the months since meeting you." Garlan was clearly perplexed by the news.
"It is no joke my Lord," Aerion shook his head at the elder Tyrell, "knighthoods are not as common in Essos as they are in the Westeros so I suppose that has much to do with it. Besides I do not need an honorific in order to fight well and do what is right by the people."
"Just look at Ser Meryn, his title certainly didn't make him a better swordsman as Arya dispatched him before ever he drew his sword." He continued more heatedly, "I've heard Ser Gregor raped and pillaged without regard for the fate of the people, did the Ser in front of his name make him think twice about his many injustices." Garlan looked contemplative for a moment.
"I suppose you're right, but a man like you would do the title proud." Garlan prompted.
Aerion bowed his head in acknowledgment of the compliment, "Thank you for your confidence in me my Lord; should Ser Barristan decide to bestow me with the title, I will accept but becoming a knight has never been my goal."
"That makes you all the more worthy." Margery interjected cheerfully.
"Again thank you, now," he addressed the two Tyrell lords, "I believe we should make our way out of the city. We have Ironborn to attend to."
Garlan chuckled, "Right you are." He embraced Margaery and pecked her on the cheek, "Goodbye sister, be safe while I am away."
"Oh, do not worry for me Garlan," Margaery waved her hand dismissively, "I feel safer here in the capital than I ever have."
When the four reached the city gates they were met by their Queen. Arya and Aerion offered a small bow while Mace and Garlan bowed much more deeply. She bid them rise quickly.
"Best of luck to you against the Ironborn, I have no doubt you will be joining us in the Vale before long." Daenerys had the utmost confident in Arya and Aerion at the least, and Garlan had proven to be level headed.
Garlan responded promptly, "We appreciate your Grace's confidence and will endeavor to prove it well founded." Aerion and Arya glanced at each other in slight exasperation. They may both like the man when he was conversing with them alone but with the Queen he was far too fond of flattery. Still Daenerys took it with a patience born from years of practice.
"And you will." They bowed again and quickly made their way through the city gates. Daenerys quickly went from Queenly to friendly. It was just the three of them in the empty streets of the early morning.
She hugged the pair briefly, "I will miss you both. I have no idea who shall keep Daario in check while you are away."
Arya chuckled, "Oh, you had no problem keeping him in check before ever you met us; you just won't be able to laugh at him as often."
The Queen let a tinkling laughter escape her, "True enough, I shall have to weather my nephew's presence without either of you or Tyrion though."
"You shall handle him as you always do Daenerys," Arya assured her, "with the dignity and poise that is such a part of who you are."
"I shall certainly try." Daenerys said sardonically, "Though I worry what he might attempt without you there to serve as a deterrent."
"There is very little we alone could do to stop an assassin," Aerion put in, "we have done everything we can to ensure your safety from clandestine attacks. Besides, I doubt he will make a move before Stannis and Roose have been routed. If you are gone he loses the forces from the Bay and would suddenly have a much harder time ensuring his victory."
Arya nodded her agreement, "We discussed it at length after you gave us our task and should we have reached any other conclusion we likely would have come to you with our concerns. And as you said, we will not be gone from you for long, the Ironborn are raiders adept on the open sea; bring the fight to their home and they will fall in short order."
"That is certainly the hope." They bowed slightly and received another hug before exiting through the city gates. They quickly made their way to the stables, mounted horses and joined the army.
The army moved faster than the one that came to claim the city. With less than a third of the original number and no need to preserve themselves for battle at the end of the journey, they could make better time. If everything held, they would make it to the banks of the Mander in two days; the ships would be waiting for them having made for the river the day after Daenerys's forces entered capital. In ten days, they would arrive in the Iron Islands. If all goes well it will take only a day to deal with their number and we'll be on our way to the Vale in short order. Arya was pulled from her thoughts by Aerion beside her.
"What are your plans for the Greyjoy King?" Aerion asked genuinely curious.
"The bulk of the men will be on Great Wyk the largest island, while our ships make landfall there I plan to take a skiff to Pyke and do what I do best." The implications were obvious, her voice holding a note of danger.
There was a slight mischievousness in his eye when he responded, "I don't know Stark, our opinions of what you do best may be two entirely different things."
Her lips twisted in a cheeky smirk, "Yes, but we both know I have no intention of bedding the bastard so I'm quite sure you know what I meant."
"I did," He conceded without further teasing, "you will be taking another's face?"
"If I have to," she replied unconcerned with the matter, "though it is likely I will as the Ironborn are not exactly known for their kindness to fair women. I shall take the guise of a man, something inconspicuous and make my way to the castle."
He furrow his brow in question, "I just assumed it possible but can you even prepare another's face away from the House of Black and White?"
In response she just chuckled, "Yes all are taught how to prepare another's face after they are given the gift, I keep the materials necessary with me just in case the need arises." Arya doubted that her former teachers would appreciate her providing such sensitive information to an outsider but she was no longer a Faceless man and Aerion was her best friend and lover.
"A good thing," He sounded slightly relieved, "so while you make your way toward Pyke and Euron, I will fight on Great Wyk?" Aerion asked.
"Yes, your presence would only bring more suspicion down upon me. You do not exactly have the Ironborn look to you." She deadpanned.
"I agree to that," He took that as a compliment, "Besides, I am far more at home on a battlefield and we both know it." His narrowed before he asked, "Do you truly believe killing the Crow's Eye will bring the Ironborn to heel?"
"Perhaps, from what I have heard, while Victarion is a bit of a dullard, he can be far more reasonable than his brother. If he doesn't decide to surrender when Euron dies it will just mean more death for the Ironborn." Aerion loved the way she spoke of things in terms of when they were going to happen instead of if; her confidence was one of her most appealing qualities.
"Well I'll be sure to leave a few Ironborn alive for you once you've finished with the King," the sarcasm was obvious in his voice at the title, "wouldn't want to have all of the fun without you."
"I think I will be having plenty of fun killing a kraken, Aerion." They both laughed at that and fell into a companionable silence. Their peace was interrupted maybe fifteen minutes later by the approach of Mace Tyrell.
"Excuse my intrusion, Lady Stark," Aerion was paid little mind by the ever reaching fat man, "but I never gave my condolences for your father's death."
Probably thinks he can win some influence in the North if he panders to me; from what I hear his oldest son is still unmarried. Arya resisted the urge to snap at the simpering man instead she looked at him neutrally, "Thank you my Lord. If I recall correctly, didn't my father break your siege at Storm's End during the Rebellion?"
Mace's face reddened slightly but he recovered well, "Yes that is true, I was attempting to starve Stannis from the castle; we had yet to hear of the Sack of King's Landing and your father and his men came upon us unawares."
"Yes that is always how my father described it, bit of a rout really. Though it is wise to know when we face a superior force and simply concede." Arya's double meaning was lost on the irritating man.
"Yes, yes of course," Mace spluttered, thinking her words a complement, "your father was a good man. Not one to boast, I'm sure he told you the history more accurately than any story a maester may have come up with."
"He was the most honest and honorable man I have ever known and it killed him." Arya said grimly.
Mace nodded his head vigorously and both Arya and Aerion fought the urge to laugh at his shaking chins, "An awful business, to hear what Cersei Lannister did was horrifying; still it is good to see that there are Starks yet of this world. Many thought your family completely extinct after your sister's disappearance."
"Yes, with Rickon and me alive and well we are almost as copious as the Frey's." Arya couldn't help the bit of sarcasm falling off her tongue as she became increasingly irritated with the inane conversation.
Mace took it as a joke and began laughing uproariously, Arya spared a glance in Aerion's direction and noticed the hard set of his jaw. Looks like he is losing his patience for the man rather quickly as well. Arya felt the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly despite herself. It was a lucky thing to as Mace chose that moment to regain control. "Very funny my Lady, but who knows, before long that may very well be true. I am sure your brother will provide your House with many heirs and if not… a family name can live on through the women of the House. I wonder if you were aware your sister may have married my son Willas had it not been for her quick marriage to the Imp at Lord Tywin's command."
Finally we get to what he really wanted to discuss. "No, Lord Tyrell, I was unaware of such a potential union; you may not have heard but I spent my time in the Free Cities and while I heard the important news of the Seven Kingdoms, the secret machinations of the Great Houses are not exactly common knowledge."
"Right of course, excuse me my Lady I was not thinking, how could you possibly know such a thing?" the man blustered.
"How indeed." Arya replied blandly.
"Still the opportunity for our Houses to be joined has not been forever lost; Willas is still unmarried and you are yet a maid." Aerion turned and stared at the man imperiously but with a hint of astonishment as well. Arya was fighting the urge to laugh again. Clearly he has paid little attention to the noises that rang through the Guest Quarters of the Red Keep the past two nights.
Arya plastered a fake smile on her face before she responded, "I am afraid that is not for us to decide my Lord, I am the Queen's loyal sword and my brother is the Lord of Winterfell, their consent must be had before ever I think of marrying."
"Yes, yes," the man stammered far too excitedly for Arya's taste, "but surely you are not opposed to the idea, my son is handsome and will be Lord of Highgarden after me. Perhaps you should come with me to the city when we pass it along the Mander. I doubt you will really be needed against the Ironborn."
Arya couldn't believe the gall of this man, her patience was beginning to wear dangerously thin, "I am a fighter my Lord," she bit out, "the Queen has given me a command and I will follow it to the best of my ability." Arya paused momentarily and glared at the man, "Besides, while I am sure Willas is a fine man my heart is my own and will go to whom I choose."
"I mean no offense," Mace started with far more confidence than she anticipated, "but did you not just say that it shall be at the Queen's discretion who you shall marry? It seems to me she would be more than happy to have one of her most loyal supporters bound to the Reach."
Arya smiled wolfishly though her voice was still even, "Do not think to know the mind of a woman you met only days ago my Lord," Arya somehow made the last two words sound more insult than honor, "Daenerys spent years fighting for peoples' right to freedom, I know she will not force me into something I do not desire."
The man faltered then, hearing the wisdom in Arya's words, "Of course my Lady," he stammered as kindly as he could manage, "I did not mean to anger you… just keep the offer in mind."
Arya stared at him for a long moment wanting him to squirm until finally she turned away from the nuisance and replied disinterestedly, "I'll do that." Recognizing the dismissal for what it was he quickly made his way toward his son at the front of the army. Arya couldn't help but remember the conversation she had with Tyrion the day they entered the capital. What if Aerion decides not to stay with me? I will have to marry some noble lord who is going to hate everything that I am and wish for nothing more than to change me. Arya was pulled from her thoughts by a gentle touch to her shoulder. Aerion's amethyst eyes held obvious concern, "Arya are you okay? You appear troubled."
Arya must have been doing a poor job of masking her emotions, a rare thing for someone who had trained tirelessly to do just that. Then again, Aerion may just be close enough that he can recognize a change in my mood even when others would notice nothing. Aerion waited in silence as Arya warred internally about what to tell him. She decided the honesty that had found them where they were was the best way to go about it, "What do you plan to do when this is over?"
Aerion clearly wasn't expecting the question, "Well… I will stay with you. I would not be surprised if the Queen offers us some land and a title to go along with it."
"Even if that means you won't be with your family for many long years?" She questioned quickly.
Aerion smiled patiently, "Arya, where is this coming from?"
She looked away from him and spoke quieter than usual, "Tyrion and I had a conversation when we went to retrieve Cersei the other day. He made the point that you may not wish to stay in the Kingdoms when this is over whereas I have an obligation to my House to do so; the conversation with Mace just now brought to the forefront what my life will be like if you decide to leave this place when it is over." She finished bitterly. Arya was strangely uncomfortable about this. It was the first time in years she had any sense of insecurity about something and she did not enjoy it. She turned to meet Aerion's eyes when she felt him grasp her hand.
"You have no need to worry," He ran his other hand up her back and into her hair. He ran it between his fingers soothingly, and Arya shut her eyes in appreciation, "I have spent years of my life away from Pentos and while I love my family they will still be my family whether I am in Pentos, King's Landing, Winterfell, or wherever else I may reside. I can visit them and be content. You though, I would not be parted from you when this is over … by the way remind me to smack Tyrion the next time I see him." Arya laughed and felt herself lightened considerably by his response.
"I know I was being foolish," She admitted with a sigh, "but it was gnawing at the back of my mind even though I was quite sure of what you would say."
He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently, "We are allowed our moments of foolishness Arya but I am glad you knew me well enough to know what my response would be." He smirked with a hint of mirth in his amethyst eyes, "It's amazing watching you put that oaf in his place, I swear he nearly pissed himself under your gaze."
She smirked, "Oaf seems an extremely fitting description, I quite like it." She leaned her head against his shoulder, "But thank you, he was grating severely on my patience and while I am sure Willas is a perfectly kind and intelligent man, I have no desire to marry him."
"I thought not." The pair fell back into a companionable silence.
20,000 men were making their way down the Mander on 200 of Daenerys' 500 ships. The journey from the capital took two days as expected but all were surprised to find the ships waiting for them, turned to travel back down the river. Apparently they had arrived in such good time they had time to make the turn before the army arrived. The trip back to the Sunset Sea would take only days, the current of the river along with the oars that now had hundreds of able bodied men capable of moving the ship would ensure their quick travel. They had just passed Highgarden and left Mace behind.
Arya was likely more pleased with this than anyone else. The man had continually tried to convince her to stay in Highgarden, though he was smart enough to try to do so with more subtlety after his first attempt. Plus he did it when Aerion was nowhere to be seen. When they made camp the first night, Garlan had requested Aerion spar with him and after their fight they had on the banks of the Blackwater Rush. Aerion was happy to do so.
Of course, Arya was not long absent company as Mace came to speak to her yet again. She almost wanted to smack Aerion when he came back from his fight with Garlan relieved of stress while she was driven up the Wall back at their tent. Arya would have been suspicious of Garlan's motivations if it weren't for the fact the man was not the social climber his father attempted to be.
Arya found herself relieved of the stress though as Aerion spoke to her about the fight with such enthusiasm. Aerion was quite impressed with the man's skill with a sword and from everything he was told wouldn't be surprised if he was every bit as good as his brother Loras, apparently Garlan usually fought three to four men at once just to simulate a proper battle situation. Aerion was apparently worth more than that as he beat the Tyrell Lord in each of their bouts. Sitting on the bow of Drogon's Wing Arya realized she had yet to hear what came of Garlan's younger brother. She wasn't sure exactly how to approach the situation so decided to just come right out and ask.
"Lord Garlan, what happened to your brother Loras? Tales are varying and one would be foolish to believe rumor as truth." Arya asked evenly.
Garlan sighed, "I am surprised you have not asked before now, which rumors have you heard?" He was avoiding the question but Arya humored him.
"Well there is the rumor that he died in the Siege of Dragonstone after suffering grievous injuries, the other is that he fought and after breaking the stronghold left for the Reach to serve in the army under disguise, and finally there is the rumor that he tired of Cersei Lannister and regretted his decision to join the Kingsguard and returned to Highgarden after spreading the rumor of his injury." Arya rattled off quickly.
"And which do you believe?" Garlan asked curiously.
"In all honesty," Arya started her grey eyes, looking across the rolling waters of the Mander, "I think it likely that he is dead. From what I remember of him, he did not seem the type to avoid a fight so either he died at Dragonstone or he fell in the battle not a week ago. I cannot imagine that he sits waiting in Highgarden." Arya concluded.
"Well-reasoned but wrong," Garlan said with a small curl in his lips, "you are right in that my brother is no coward and would not avoid a fight. He only went to Dragonstone because Cersei refused his request to fight in the Reach against the Ironborn until the castle was taken."
Arya continued for him having quickly realized the truth of the matter, "So he stayed and commanded the men who kept the Ironborn raiders at bay while you and Randyll Tarly commanded the bulk of your forces against first Aegon and then Daenerys."
"Exactly." Garlan seemed pleased that she reached the proper conclusion.
"Why wasn't he at the battle then?" Arya asked slightly confused.
"I took Brightwater Keep from Ser Colin Florent three years ago before Aegon landed, my wife and two year old son are there." He could not stop the fondness that entered his voice at their mention, "With the threat of the Ironborn still prevalent I could not leave them alone and Loras thought it unwise for him to be so close to the capital after his apparent desertion. He stayed behind with a hundred men to protect my family. My brother is many things but I never loved him more than in that moment, Loras is fond of glory but he forsook that for the sake of my wife and my son." Garlan's voice was thick with emotion.
"Will he be meeting us at the Iron Islands then?" Arya could not see the Knight of Flowers remaining behind for a second battle.
"Before actually," Garlan told her happily, "he will be taking a ship with twenty of his hundred men and meet us at the mouth of the Mander."
"Good any sword is welcomed and one like your brother's more than most."
"Yes, two Roses will fight beside the Snake and the Wolf, the Ironborn stand no chance." He announced proudly and she couldn't help but agree. But his mood quickly turned as he continued, "I apologize for my father, he told me of his conversation with you about Willas."
"It is not your place to apologize my Lord, while I am sure your brother is lovely it was neither the time nor place." Arya placated.
"Yes that much is true but more importantly, you are Aerion's and Aerion is clearly yours," if Garlan thought the comment was going to cause a blush in the young woman he was sadly mistaken, "and my father knew this and yet he persisted."
"You're right of course, I have the person I want and that as much as anything was reason enough to refuse your father. He knew I would not do as he bid yet he persisted even after that first attempt." She frowned distastefully at the memory of their conversations, "I wanted to hit you when you asked Aerion to fight the first night we made camp." Arya said seriously though with a hint of mirth in her voice.
"That was not my intent I assure you," Garlan said a little nervously, "Aerion is the only man, besides my brother, I have ever met worth fighting alone."
"I know Garlan, there is no need to be so worried, but I damn near beat your father while you two were off hitting each other." They both laughed loudly.
Loras and his men joined them as planned but Arya and Aerion had yet to see him. As they sailed past Fair Isle, three days from the Iron Islands they met roughly a hundred Ironborn ships along the coast. They would be in for a sea fight within minutes, as such Aerion, Arya, and Garlan sat upon the bow of their ship watching as the actual sailors worked frantically as they pulled every knot of speed they could manage from the vessel. Arya and Aerion wore their usual light armor; Garlan followed their example and wore light leathers that better served the needed flexibility of naval warfare. The Ironborn ships were massive but Daenerys had her fleet built with the destruction of the Iron Fleet in mind, so they were far from outmatched.
The reports the Lords of the Reach had gathered over the course of the years said that the Crow's Eye commanded 200 ships, winning this fight would drastically limit the Ironborn's ability to fight them on the Islands.
Garlan turned to Aerion and Arya, "We have twice their number, this should be an easy victory."
Arya did not look convinced, "Should be easy yes, but the Ironborn are born for sailing and are more at home battling on the deck of ship than they are on land. I hoped we would catch them with the whole of their fleet back at Pyke planning new raiding parties." Garlan fell silent at that as Aerion merely stood their stone faced. He probably isn't looking forward to fighting at sea like this. The Royal Fleet was arranged so as to force the Ironborn to either retreat or be crushed between their ships.
Not three minutes later, all of the seven hells broke loose. There ships crashed into the Ironborn crushing ten of their number in the initial clash. Well those ships will be of no use ever again. Men from the now destroyed vessels jumped across the gap between ships and skirmishes broke out on the deck of ship after ship.
Aerion and Arya found themselves fighting off weathered looking men wielding axes, dagger and short swords; weapons best suited for the closed quarters of deck combat. Arya was thankful for the dagger Aerion made her in that moment. I'll have to keep my eye on Aerion, this is not the place for a longsword and I would not see him injured or worse because of it. She glanced over in his direction and realized he was using a high guard; most of his attacks being downward slashes and stabs to avoid the masts of the ship. Well I suppose I needn't worry he knows how to handle himself.
She turned back to the fight only to have an axe through the sea air right toward her ribcage, she quickly brought her knife up and through the light leather on the man's right forearm, blood poured down onto her gauntleted hand. Arya got a good look at her assailant. He was an ugly man with skewed, rotting teeth, thin black hair, and a nose too small for his face. His eyes were beady black and she could see the fear and exhilaration of battle there. He wore the twining waterspouts of House Merlyn. She was impressed with the man's vigor if not his appearance as he fought through his apparent pain and pulled back to heft another swing of the axe this time hoping to cleave her head. She ducked underneath the attempt and drove Needle through his ribs in one quick motion. The main stared wide-eyed at her as he went limp. Before he fell over she pushed him over the side of the ship with her shoulder. No need to leave a body on an already crowded deck.
Meanwhile, Aerion was fighting a man wielding two daggers and wearing the bone white hand on a field of red of House Drumm. The man was fast and clearly skilled with his weapon of choice. Aerion was dodging frequently and in the close quarter was quickly realizing this fight needed to be ended sooner rather than later. From the corner of his eye he saw the glint of steel as it slashed for his head, he jerked his head out of the way but still felt the cold bite of steel as it cut his cheek. It was a shallow cut only three inches long but Aerion did not like the close call. Aerion blocked another slash with the vambraces on his right forearm and lashed out at his enemy's head with his left fist. His gauntlet met soft flesh and hard bone and Aerion heard them crunch under the force of his strike.
Aerion imagined that was incredibly painful but did not allow the man's pain to last long, as his enemy turned back to strike him he brought the Serpent's Fang down violently, cleaving through the man's half helm like a warm knife through butter; blood spurted up as bone yielded and brain matter was ripped through with ease. When the slash was finished Aerion's blade was down near the bridge of the now dead man's nose. Aerion pulled the blade free with a wet slurping noise. He turned to see Arya had just finished off the man that attacked her. They nodded at one another before joining the fray once again.
The mixture of salty sea air, blood, and shit was nauseating to say the least but the men of the Reach fought on. The battle was not of the same nature as the one along the Blackwater Rush, it was a skirmish, a no holds barred type of fight in which the enemy cared nothing for chivalry or honor and fought dirty as they could.
So Aerion and Arya, being no strangers to less decent fighters in the Free Cities, took to doing much the same. More than once each of them delivered swift kicks to the groins of their opponents or spit in their faces. After an hour of fighting fifteen of the Ironborn ships retreated back toward Pyke while the other eighty-five were either somewhere at the bottom of the Sunset Sea or unfit for use, the exception being the five largest vessels. These were the only vessels where fighting was still taking place, maybe five hundred Ironborn remained and they were clearly overmatched.
Arya fought a large man, and much like the man Aerion had killed earlier this was a Drumm but from the state of his armor and the way the other men looked to him this must be Lord Dustan Drumm, the Bone Hand. He was a large man wielding a sword and axe simultaneously, unlike the other Ironborn she had killed this day he actually looked like he had bathed at some point in his life and groomed himself in the last year. Still highborn or not he'll either be dead or surrender before this fight is over. The man slashed at her legs with both weapons. Arya jumped over the swipe only to be pushed to the ground by the man's shoulder. Arya could see his blood stained greaves as he approached for the finishing blow but as he went to slash her she took her dagger and drove it through the man's foot, pinning him to the deck. He faltered and dropped his axe. Pressing her advantage Arya took Needle and drove it through the knee of his other leg; the pain proved too much for the Lord and he fell to his knees. Arya stood and brought Needle to his neck only to stop before ending the man's life as she looked around. The fighting stopped. Aerion who had just decapitated a man and Garlan who was already cleaning his blade quickly made their way to her side. Garlan appraised the Lord in front of him with darkened eyes.
"This is Lord Dustan Drumm," Garlan said fiercely, "he is one of the most revered Ironborn raiders and Lord of Old Wyk."
Arya removed her blade from the man's neck, "Then he is a valuable prisoner and someone who we would do well to keep alive." Garlan's head snapped in her direction and for a moment she thought he might just kill the man then and there. After a tense moment finally he nodded stiffly and returned his attention to the wounded Lord.
"How many were you?" Garlan asked, his voice straining to remain civil.
"Fuck off, you Rose bastard." The man spat at Garlan feet. He made to strike their now prisoner but a look from both Aerion and Arya stopped him.
Aerion loomed over the man imperiously as Arya got down at eye level and began whispering in his ear, "I spent five years of my life as a Faceless Man and my friend here has some rather unique talents with the blade, between the two of us I think we can come up with some interesting things to do with you," the man paled significantly at the mention of the infamous assassin's order and stared wide eyed at Aerion above him, "now we can avoid any unpleasantness if you simply answer our questions. If you do that I promise nothing will happen to you." The man nodded quickly. Aerion restrained a smirk while Garlan looked on in wide-eyed surprise. "Now how many were you?"
"We had 100 hundred ships carrying 5,000 Ironborn raiders; we were planning a large raid on the Reach with the news of their defeat at the capital." He answered freely now, almost stumbling over his words in his haste.
Aerion asked the next question, "And how many men do you have back on the Iron Islands?"
"We have another hundred ships and 10,000 men at arms."
"And they are situated primarily on Great Wyk?"
"Yes, they are all on Great Wyk. I know not how many guard the castles around the Islands" The man seemed none too fond of revealing his people's strength and position but fear spurred him on.
Arya asked the final question, "And the Crow's Eye stays at the Castle of Pyke?"
Here the man's mood seemed to darken, "Yes, for all of his talk of conquering the Kingdoms we have gained nothing but death since he became king and he no longer raids; instead, he is content to wait at Pyke until the dragons come."
"Yes we have heard of his dragon horn and it would have brought only death and ruin down on you should Daenerys have come for you." Arya said stonily.
The Drumm snorted derisively, "He thought he would send Victarion to treat with her but he was forced to reconsider when the Redwynes and Tyrell responded so quickly against our raiders."
I sincerely doubt Daenerys would have taken well to another man seeking her hand in marriage for their own gains, and something tells me that Victarion Greyjoy would have been far less diplomatic in his approach than Quentyn Martell. "Thank you my Lord Drumm, you shall be held as prisoner with what men remain until Euron has surrendered." With that she began making her way back across the various ships she fought upon to their vessel. Garlan quickly approached her side, "What did you say to him that made him give up so much information?" the question was said in half excitement and half concern. Arya and Aerion both turned to Garlan and smiled a little wickedly.
"I simply informed him of my former profession and may have implied that Aerion has a fondness for knives and their more unique uses… what he did with that information was entirely his problem. I am only glad he decided to give up his fellow Ironborn as a result." Arya said looking innocent as a child.
Garlan gawked at her speechlessly for a moment before he regained himself, "Isn't that a little dishonest for a Lady from a Noble House?"
"I have many faces Lord Garlan," Arya said bluntly, "the one I wear in battle is not the same I wear when handling matters for my House." She paused for a moment, "Fear is an incredibly powerful thing, it is the reason Torrhen Stark knelt before Aegon the Conqueror without a fight 300 years ago; people fear the Faceless Men and if I can use that fear to make things safer for the men we command then so be it." The man seemed mollified by the answer and continued on in silence.
Before long, they were on their way toward the Iron Islands once more. They lost three ships in the battle and 2,000 men, in turn they killed 3,800 and captured 200, 1,000 escaped on the last fifteen ships. They kept five still serviceable ships of the Ironborn so actually made gains in their fleet. Lord Drumm had been distraught to find out his son, Donnel, was dead, he was the knife wielder Aerion killed early in the battle. The men of the Reach moved forward more confident than ever of their victory in the coming days.
They were a day from Great Wyk as Arya lay atop Aerion panting heavily from a rigorous stretch of love making. Since the next day they were going to apart for the battle, they decided to make the most of the night. And by the gods did we. The evidence of their third romp between the sheets lay across her back from where Aerion had finished.
She started chuckling slightly beneath her breath and Aerion couldn't help but look down at her eyebrow raised, "Something funny? Please do share."
Arya was not in the slightest bit laughing at what they had just done; instead she was thinking of Aerion's first time meeting the Knight of Flowers earlier today. "Sorry love, but I was just thinking of your first encounter with Ser Loras."
Aerion's lips thinned but the slight quirk at the edges told her he was trying not to laugh himself, "It wasn't funny."
"Oh we both know that isn't true." Arya responded with a glint in her eye.
The Knight of Flowers had boarded their shipped in the early morning before the crews began the process of getting them moving for the day. He wished to see his brother and they spent much of the morning talking privately. Garlan having come to both respect and like Aerion and Arya brought Loras to meet them.
Arya was surprised when she saw him because apparently there was some truth to the story of what happened on Dragonstone. He had a burn that marred the lower half of his right jaw and stretched toward his neck. That is not to say the man was not still handsome but he looked less like a maid now than he did when she saw him fight in the tourney held in her father's honor six years ago.
Loras was polite as expected of someone of his birth, saying all of the right things and offering all of the appropriate condolences. The funny thing was that while he did this he kept his eyes firmly glued to Aerion; apparently, Garlan had not informed his brother of Aerion and Arya's relationship and Renly's former lover had apparently found a man who he thought handsome enough to look ogle.
Aerion was incredibly uncomfortable and sent frequent looks to Arya for help; she, being ever understanding, just smirked with that mischievous glint in her eye and let it continue for an hour. Finally, when Loras made a remark about a sparring match that was far too ambiguous for Arya's taste, she leaned over and kissed her lover firmly on the lips.
What followed was rather humorous as Loras felt no animosity to either of them but instead rounded on his older brother red in the face. Garlan merely raised his hands in a soothing manner and apologized for not telling him of their relationship.
What followed was a rather awkward apology that left Aerion shifting sheepishly and, according to Garlan, a more embarrassed Loras than he had ever seen.
Arya's whole body shook now as she laughed thinking on it, she yelped when she felt a slight sting on her left bum cheek, Aerion was looking down on her sternly, "That's enough of that now." She could see he was resisting his own urge to laugh though and as she turned to him with eyebrow raised a small chuckle escaped his lips and they were laughing together. Once they calmed down Aerion spoke again, "Alright, I have to admit it was rather funny. I felt bad for Loras in all honesty, I didn't have the heart to come out and tell him of his misunderstanding. He had every reason to be mad at Garlan."
"Agreed." Arya slid off Aerion slowly and made her way over to the water jug on the other side of the cabin and washed herself of the evidence of their coupling.
"I'm worried about this, you do know that?" Arya wasn't expecting that and turned to see Aerion staring at her.
Arya smiled softly, "I worried about you when you rode off to fight the Mountain by yourself but I had every bit of confidence that you would kill the monster."
"Yes," He conceded, "but you could see what was happening to me where I will have the unfortunate fate of having to imagine what is happening to you."
Arya could understand his point and wanted to relieve his worry, "Aerion, I killed more than two hundred men in my time in with the Faceless Man, never once in all that time was I suspected of the act."
"I have every faith in your ability but I will still worry for you."
"That is not a bad thing Aerion, if you did not worry over my well-being when I am in danger I would question just how much you really care for me. Worry for me all you like and know that I appreciate the thought, but do not let it affect your mindset in battle. Just trust me to do what is necessary." She walked over to him and pulled him close.
He appreciated her words of comfort and let his more fretful thoughts fall away, "More than two hundred men, really?"
"Yes," She said hesitantly, "I thought I told you before."
"No, I would have remembered that. It is impressive that you took that many lives and never once were you suspected." He said a hint of admiration in his voice.
"That is a Faceless Man, at least a good Faceless Man." More than one of her former colleagues had been caught in her time, even if it was rare, "When we are hired it is an unspoken agreement that the target will be killed silently and without any suspicion being cast on any involved, assassin or contractor." She explained.
"That much I knew but it is impressive that no suspicion ever fell on you." She smiled at him as he continued, "Do you have a plan of attack for Euron?"
"Truthfully, no, but it doesn't matter in the end. Whoever I come upon, whether it is priest, guard, or servant I will take their face, I will find a way into the castle and I will kill him." Arya stated with confidence.
"A priest?" He questioned
"Yes," She smirked knowingly, "and it wouldn't be the first time."
"How many times have you had to take the face of a priest?" He asked curiously.
"Only three or four, and if my times amongst the pious," she spoke the word distastefully, "have taught me anything it is that for every truly holy man there is another who does not even believe in the god he claims to serve and exploits the people he should be helping."
"There is a story somewhere in there." His attention clearly peaked as he sat up to look down at her.
No reason not to. "I was assigned to kill a priest in the service of R'hllor in Volantis. So naturally I took the guise of a priest myself as way of getting closer to the target. I wasn't given any specifics as to why the man needed to die so I endeavored to find the reason myself."
She paused a moment, "On the surface he was an incredibly pious man, he tended to the wounded, and helped the beleaguered people of the city."
"People are rarely what they seem on the surface."
"Very true," Arya agreed before continuing, "I befriended my target, Qorell, as a way of finding out his more secretive habits. I found out quickly the man lacked any resemblance to the kindly priest he portrayed to the masses. He stole on a regular basis from the temple's collections and when a pretty young woman would come to him in search of help he would rape her and, if she had no one who would miss her, then sell her into slavery."
She tilted her head in thought, "I believe it was one of these women who hired us. He told me how he raped a young noble woman of the city when she came seeking advice at the temple, he could not reasonably sell her into slavery so he allowed her to return home after giving her an alchemical potion meant to cause memory loss. It is my belief the potion didn't take and wishing to avoid the embarrassment of the situation, she convinced her parents to hire the Faceless Men to deal with the unsavory man."
In the end, it made little difference to Arya. She was hired to kill the priest and did just that. His being a vile piece of shit only made things easier, "Anyway, the man liked his excess and would go so far as to take women in abandoned alleys when the opportunity presented itself. I accompanied him on one occasion and when he had taken her to a secluded area he asked me to keep watch for any city guards. Instead I slipped behind him and drove a knife into his kidney. The woman, who he had knocked unconscious, saw nothing and I left the city two days later."
"It is unfortunate that men who are supposed to serve others think only of themselves." Aerion commented.
"I agree but for every fraud there is the genuine believer." Aerion looked for her to elaborate, "In that same temple I met another man, Hospit, who served the Red God from the time he was seven years old, he was seventy-five years old. He helped all who came to him and kept nothing for himself beyond that which was necessary to live."
"An amazing man." Aerion commented.
Arya nodded, "He was, watching him made it easier to tolerate the injustice of what was done by his fellow priest." He nodded against her hair as he pulled her close to his body. He kissed her on the temple as they both drifted off to sleep.
Three hours before day break the next morning Aerion and Arya stood upon the deck of their ship and hefted a skiff into the sea with the help of three crew members. If one could see through the fog Pyke and the castle of the same name would have been visible to the north. While the rest of the fleet would make their way northwest to Great Wyk, Arya along with one of the crewman would make their way to Pyke.
She turned to Aerion and gave him a quick hug, "Be safe and I'll see you soon."
"I think I was supposed to say that to you." He chuckled quietly.
With the crewman, she made her way down into the skiff. It would take two hours to reach Pyke's shores and they would maintain the cover of night as they approached. Arya donned all black for the moment as a way of blending in with the shadows better until she could take another face.
As they made their way closer to the island, Arya found herself working herself into the necessary mindset for an assassination. She was no one again; she wasn't a Lady of House Stark, she wasn't the lost child who was captured at Harrenhal, and she wasn't Aerion Ormthair's lover. She was a tool of death given only a man's name and any number of ways to remove it from life.
When they reached the shore Arya dismissed the rower, she hadn't even gotten his name, and quickly made her way inland. Her hope was that the faster she managed to kill Euron, the fewer men would have to die for his pride. One life can save thousands that always seems to be the way of things with the highborn.
Two hours after reaching shore, she came upon the gates to the three towers of Pyke castle. Fortunately for her plans, the sun was not to be seen this day, it was hidden behind cloud cover. The area was not exactly a thriving city and few were about except the castle guards. There were three along the wall that she could see and she had to assume that there were others inside the towers that flanked the gate. One of those guards should serve my purposes well enough.
Arya snuck inside the guard tower and quickly found her way into a secluded area within the building. She waited a good twenty minutes before a guard finally walked by. She grabbed him and dragged him into the darkness slitting his throat before he had the opportunity to cry out. The young man wore the kraken of House Greyjoy and was no older than eight and ten. He was probably one of the few handsome Ironborn she had met. But neither his age nor his appearance had any effect on her sense as she was of a single-mind and purpose.
The process of preparing the face was quick but unpleasant. Even now this is the only part of this I am uncomfortable with. It was quite literal in that she actually took his face. A bronze dagger with a set of runic etchings was used to actually cut the face, Arya did not know exactly how the dagger worked but it cauterized as the flesh was separate from muscle and bone. She then prepared it in a viscous blue liquid that removed any other blood and kept the flesh from petrifying.
The whole process took maybe five minutes and when it was done Arya stood there garbed in armor adorned with the kraken and with the face of another person. Hopefully this will be the last time.
Arya quickly left the guard tower and made her way down the causeway to the first of Pyke's towers. She was fortunate enough not to be accosted within the first and twenty minutes later she was walking along the second causeway. It was there that she was stopped.
"Egan," called an older man of maybe forty years, "Aren' you suppose' to be down by the gates?"
Arya turned to the man and quickly realized he meant her. Through years of practice Arya's voice came out without a hint of femininity, "They sent me up to the castle on account of the threat on Great Wyk, they know if we don' stop them there that we won' be holdin' the first gate."
"Heard about that business did ya?" the man said gruffly.
"Aye, they say we're outmanned but it means nothing," Arya almost cringed at the need for a less refined speech, she had become used to more civilized company again of late, "we are the reavers of the Iron Islands, they'll be dead by our blades and their women ours."
The man laughed uproariously, "Damn righ' about tha', now get goin' you cheeky fuck."
Arya raised a hand for the man to pause a moment, "Did they say if the figtin' has started yet?"
"Word is tha' the battle is suppos' start in the hour." He replied gruffly a bit miffed at being stopped.
Arya nodded curtly in response and quickly made her way through the second of the castles and finally onto the causeway connecting the third of Pyke's towers. The third of the towers that made up Castle Pyke was the largest and also in the most precarious position. The Great Keep will be the Keep in the Sea someday, too bad I can't wait for the sea to finish its work and take the castle, and the Greyjoys with it.
Arya made her way to the Great Hall and the sight that met her was not what she expected. The room had ten guard stationed around its perimeter. A large man wearing armor ornately adorned with the kraken of House Greyjoy stood with seven men at his back, bellowing at a roguishly handsome man sitting upon the Sea Stone Chair. A massive black piece of rock carved in the likeness of a kraken. Arya could only assume that these men were Victarion and Euron Greyjoy. Well this could certainly prove to be useful. There is no better assassination than the one in which you never have to raise a finger to see the target dead.
"Your plans have failed brother!" The captain of the Iron Fleet roared, "For all of your promises that the Seven Kingdoms would be ours you have given us nothing. Daenerys Targaryen has come and she has already taken three of the Seven Kingdoms." Victarion appeared ready to strike his older brother but stayed his hand. For the moment
The Crow's Eye was surprisingly calm in his response, "My plans are closer to coming to fruition than ever before. The dragons are here in Westeros and their mother with them. We need only outlast the forces from the Reach and make her bring the Dragons to break us."
"I may not have your mind Euron," Victarion sneered hatefully, "but even I can see this is madness; your plan would see every Ironborn raider dead and this place burned on the chance that you might be able to bind a dragon."
"The horn is called Dragonbinder for a reason Victarion, it will do as it says." Arya had quietly and as inconspicuously as possible made her way closer to Victarion. His gathered men paid her little mind, they were too focused on the drama playing out in front of them.
Victarion snorted, "You hope but you have no proof, and what difference does it make if none of your people remain ere you have your dragons. The entire point of this was to see the Ironborn strong again, not eradicated entirely."
"So you would have me surrender to this army from the Reach? You would have the Kraken bow to the Rose?" Euron was incredulous.
"I would have you bow to a Dragon so our fate is not the same as Harren the Black and his sons. We Greyjoys are not so many now that we can risk such a thing." Victarion had stopped yelling but his voice held no less anger.
Euron rose from his throne smiling smugly at his brother. He is far too cocky for his own good. That look will be wiped from his face in a few moments. He walked forward and hugged his hulking sibling. "No need to worry brother, everything will be alright."
Arya stood in the front of Victarion's gather men. As Euron turned to walk out of the room she whispered though her voice traveled to Vication's ears, "He is responsible for your wife's death, he hired the man that took Balon's life, he took a throne that would have been yours, he made promises that he could never keep, and he would watch every one of us burn for the sake of his pride. It isn't kinslaying when the act is necessary, you could save yourself and thousands of your people if you only act now." To Victarion it sounded almost like a whisper in the back of his mind egging him on. Arya knew that Euron had hired one of the Faceless Men to kill his brother and she was glad that she heard the story of what Euron had done to Victarion's most recent wife.
She watched as the anger that sat on the surface swelled into a burning inferno of rage within the huge Greyjoy man. With a roar, Victarion took his great axe from his back and swung at his brother. The ten guards around the room jumped into action as the eight men, including Arya, unsheathed their blades in defense of the younger Greyjoy.
It was clear that Victarion had brought some of his most skilled men to face his brother. He must've thought this could come to more than just words. As a result, the battle was quite short and the ten guards were dispatched with haste while only one of Victarion's number fell in the scuffle. Blood stained the floor of the Pyke's Great Hall.
Euron was a brilliant manipulator and solid swordsman but it was clear for all to see that Victarion was the superior warrior. In the end, the King of Salt and Stone kneeled in a pool of his own men's blood his younger brother looming over him.
"Is this what you are Victarion, a kinslayer who lacks all honor?" Euron spat out, a bit of blood escaping from his mouth.
"My wife was more kin to me than you have ever been brother and I killed her with my bare hands." He spat at his brother, "This is an act of mercy. What is one man's life in the face of thousands?"
"You think you can save them?" he laughed cruelly, "You will give them nothing but subjugation and because of you our family name will fall into nothing."
"At least my way we have a chance, your path led to certain death." To Victarion's credit he didn't smile as he raised his axe above his head, he just stared into his brother's eyes an unreadable expression on his face. The axe came down fast and cleaved into Euron's shoulder blade, cracking bone and cutting through flesh until the head of the axe fell through the Crow Eye's heart.
Victarion turned to his gathered men. "Have him taken to the sea, he may not have been a godly man but he was a Greyjoy and we serve the Drowned God." Two of the men quickly made their way over to the body, lifted it, and made their way out of the Great Hall and toward the causeway where his body could be given to the sea.
The Greyjoy Lord made his way over to Dragonbinder and stared at it for a long moment. Arya was tempted to go over and give the man another nudge but it would be far more obvious this time then it was the last. Instead, she decided to await his decision.
A long five minutes later, the man finally turned from the ornate Valyrian horn. "Have that thing destroyed, it has caused nothing but strife here and I very much doubt the Dragon Queen wants something of that nature around. She clearly already has control of her dragons and will not suffer another trying to take her children."
Arya was elated but showed nothing as she moved with two other men to heft the dragon horn. Hmm five hours, not the quickest I've ever finished an assassination but it's certainly up there. Then again most the work was done before I even arrived all that was needed was the proper push. She contemplated this particular assassination as they moved the massive took it to a balcony that over looked the rocks below the castle and lifted it over the edge. Arya and the two men with her leaned over the balcony and watched as the thing plummeted to the earth. When finally it struck the ground it was shorn upon the rocks but as it broke a great wailing was heard for miles around the Islands.
When she returned to the Great Hall Victarion was making ready his men and screaming orders, "Make ready my ship! We sail for Great Wyk immediately!" Then at a volume only those around him could hear, "This ends now, I will not lose anymore Ironborn to this foolishness." They quickly made their way toward the shore. If we're lucky by the time we reach Great Wyk the battle won't have been going on that long.
They landed dead center of the southern shore an hour after Arya reached Pyke. Aerion stood ten miles from the shore of Great Wyk and looked out at the island. What a bleak place; I can understand why they do not sow. The winter made the already sparse landscape even less impressive.
Aerion, Garlan and Loras were discussing how to approach the situation. They stood with a map of the island on a table before them. The Lord of Brightwater Keep took control of the conversation, "They have 11,000 men, that we know, but our forward scouts inform me that they are not consolidated in one place."
He pointed to three distinct locations on the island, "As far as we can tell they have two groups of 3,000 one to the north the other to the west, and the last 5,000 are to the east. The group to the east is largest because the men who escaped our sea battle made landfall there. As such they had forewarning of our arrival and are making their way here as we speak. I suggest each of us take command of 6,000 of our remaining 18,000 men and meet them before they have the opportunity to converge on us."
Loras nodded his head but Aerion voiced his concerns, "Would it not be wiser to prepare the area we already hold and defend ourselves. We do not know this land the way they do and I would think it better not to give them any advantage when we have them outnumbered."
"Yes but they know the land better than us whether we meet them here or further inland and I would rather us not be pinned in by the sea." Aerion could see his point and nodded his ascent with the plan and the three quickly informed the captains present to make the preparations.
Aerion would be leading his men against the group to the east, while Garlan and Loras would take those to the north and west respectively. I do not know whether to be flattered or perturbed by the fact I have to fight the largest concentration of enemies.
They marched for two hours before they could see the Ironborn raiders across the snow covered plains of Great Wyk. Hopefully Arya has finished her task otherwise I fear every fighting man on these Islands will die before this is over.
Aerion turned to the men he commanded, he yelled out to them and all listened as he spoke, "I may not be one of you, I don't know Oldtown or the Arbor and I've only seen the Shield Islands in passing," he paused and gestured to the enemy across the field, "But I know these men would rape your women and pillage your land." A general murmur of anger rang through the soldiers, "Man of the Reach or not, I won't suffer it any longer. I will shed blood with you this day for the good of the Reach and the good of the realm. Will you fight with me?" Aerion finished by raising his blade into the air.
A great roar went through the crowd and for a long moment their yells drowned out all other noise but then from the east a great keening wail pierced through their voices and all fell silent and looked in the direction of Pyke; even the Ironborn looked in confusion to the seat of their Lords. I have a feeling Arya just managed to destroy that horn.
Aerion noticed the attention of his men had returned to him, he looked out across the faces both old and young and yelled, "For the Reach!"
The melee that ensued was not the well thought out bit of military maneuvering that occurred near the capital. There were not tens of thousands of men here to fight, where you needed to flow from opponent to opponent killing without regard because of the sheer number of people. No, they were on open land covered with nearly a foot of snow and fighting men who were far more at home fighting at sea or raiding the innocent then they were facing actual opponents. There was no order compared to the Battle on the Banks. It was still a bloody battle and while they did not have the Knights so common amongst the southern houses, the Ironborn had their own skilled warriors.
Aerion found himself fighting a man with the black warhorn of House Goodbrother on his chest and a great axe in his hand. The man was a relentless fighter and swung his weapon with all of the might he could muster. On the other hand Aerion thought to pay attention to his surroundings a bit more. He saw just behind the man was a patch of ice, after parrying a blow that was meant to cleave him at the hip he kicked out with his right leg catching the man in the shin and forcing him back only slightly but it was enough. As he faltered backward, the Goodbrother warrior slipped on the bit of ice under his steel covered boot; he fell to one knee and lost his helm in the process. Aerion took quick advantage of his slip and slashed fiercely for the man's neck, the blade cut deep, through his skin, and severed his spinal cord killing him instantly before exiting the other side and removing the man's head from his shoulders. Aerion turned from the gruesome sight and looked for his next opponent.
An hour passed and the battle was a slow going thing, neither side made many gains with their numbers being so close. Blood stained the snow, all around bodies and their various parts littered the battlefield as men continued to fall. If Aerion was any judge, his men were winning if only slightly. As he cut the throat of another Ironborn he saw sails to the east. Please let that be Arya with Victarion Greyjoy in tow to call an end to this. The sight of the ships did have the unwanted effect of bolstering the Ironborn's will to fight.
Time had little meaning now on the battlefield. As Aerion finished another man with a stab that hit a kidney, he looked around the battlefield and saw about fifty yards away there was a man decimating every Reacher who came near him. The man was not particularly large but one of the few wielding sword and shield and clearly he had some talent in it. Aerion kept his eye on the man, as he dealt with another defender. The killed three soldiers in a flurry of blocks and slashes in short order. Well that needs to be dealt with.
Aerion made haste toward the fighter who was giving his men so many problems, on his way he reached down and picked up another sword from the ground. As he drew closer he was approached by two other Ironborn who he dispatched with all of the ease of carving a cake. The first found himself with a three inch deep cut from clavicle to navel. The next died as the Fang dug into his left lung. Aerion heard a roar of rage from the direction of the warrior he had come to kill. Well looks as though I have his attention.
The man was clean shaven, surprising for one of the Ironborn, with long graying hair that fell below the edge of his helm. On his chest and shield were the dark green pines on yellow of House Orkwood. Aerion didn't know it but this was Lord Alyn Orkwood. Aerion approached the man quickly and brought the sword in his right hand down upon the shield and thus their fight began.
Aerion was surprised to find the man, despite what he had seen on his approach, was as talented in defense as he had been when attacking his opponents. Alyn used his round shield to incredible effect, his blade flashing out from behind it only when there was no threat of being caught in the counterattack. This man knows how to fight. Aerion took a step back for a moment and then with a cry drove the sword in his left hand forward with as much force as he could manage in the hopes of puncturing the steel of Lord Alyn's shield. The blow proved true as the tip of his blade punctured the surface and Aerion heard a satisfying grunt of pain as the blade cut through flesh when it came out the other side.
Aerion violently wrenched the hilt of his blade so as to force the Ironborn's arm back and possibly break the already injured appendage. He was quick though and pulled his arm free of the shields straps and forced Aerion off balance. Lord Alyn made an upward slash with his blade that Aerion pulled away from quickly yet it still cut him shallowly. Blood began to fall from a five inch long cut along his right shoulder. Aerion paid the wound little mind as he quickly recovered. He thrust forward driving black steel through the man's left shoulder. He grunted in pain and spit blood into Aerion's face.
Aerion did not let the dirty tactic affect him and quickly brought his free hand up and into the side of the man's head while simultaneously pulling his blade free of the his shoulder. They looked at one another for a brief moment before they jumped into action again. Slashes were thrown as each man did everything necessary to see the other fall.
After five minutes of this stalemate, Aerion ended it. The Lord of Orkwood was unable to avoid a downward slash that separated his sword hand from his body and Aerion, without even paying attention to the result of his strike, pivoted and slashed across the man's gut cutting deeply enough that his organs and lifeblood began to spill from his body. An hour had passed since Aerion last looked to the ships that he had once seen in the distance. Now he could see they made landfall and men on horseback were making their way toward the battle. Those aren't reinforcements though.
When they were half a mile away Aerion could make out a massive man wearing a kraken helm upon his head. Even as he discerned this feature the man brought a horn to his lips and Ironborn and Reacher alike stopped their fighting.
Victarion's booming voice rang out clearly around the battlefield, "The Crow's Eye is dead and as King of Salt and Stone, I Victarion Greyjoy, Lord Reaper of the Iron Islands, bid all Ironborn surrender." There was some murmur of discontent amongst the gathered men but in the end every Ironborn there laid down his arms.
Victarion rode up to the battlefield and Aerion waited on the edge to meet him. "I am Aerion Ormthair, champion of Queen Daenerys and commander of this force."
Victarion was surprisingly genially in his response, "Greetings Aerion Ormthair, I would bid you send runners to the other members of your army to the east, along with my messengers so that we can end this fighting."
"Agreed my Lord," Aerion nodded before bellowing, "Dickon Tarly!"
The young man and new Lord Horn Hill ran to Aerion's side, "Yes my Lord, what would you have me do?"
Aerion let the use of an unwarranted title slide for the moment, "Send your best riders with what few horses we have with Lord Victarion's messengers and see that Garlan and Loras end this without further bloodshed."
"As you say." And with that the young Lord did as Aerion bid.
"Collect your men and tend to your fallen, my Lord," Aerion addressed Victarion once more, "We can discuss things once Lord Garlan and Ser Loras arrive." Aerion caught the eye of one of the guards to Victarion's right and noticed him wink. Well there is Arya. He thought wryly
"We will do that, it is easy to tend to the fallen with the sea so close." Victarion said idly before looking Aerion in the eye more seriously, "I remember hearing your name, they say you killed the thing that was once the Mountain."
"You heard that even here, did you?" Aerion smirked, "yes that was me."
"I can respect a man who did something like that." He turned his horse and made his way toward the lines of Ironborn collecting their dead.
Six hours later, the dead were collected and both Loras and Garlan had arrived on horseback while their forces returned to the ships. Their battles had been easier, and by the time messengers had reach Loras only 500 Ironborn remained of the initial 3,000, he had only lost 1,200 men in the battle. There were 1,100 Ironborn left of the force that Garlan fought while he lost 1,300. Aerion's battle while the shortest had been the most deadly for both sides. The Ironborn who'd been led by Lord Orkwood lost 3,100 men of their 5,000 while Aerion's forces had suffered a loss of 2,800. Victarion was clearly unhappy when he heard how many Ironborn had been lost to his brother's stupidity. Only 3,500 fighting men remained in the Islands of what was once a force of 25,000 before the Crow's Eye became King. Surprisingly though, very few of the noble houses had been driven to extinction. In fact only House Blacktyde was removed from existence but many others were far thinner in number, their Lords little more than babes.
The leaders of the two forces stood in a tent that was erected to decide the next steps. Victarion was currently congratulating Aerion on his defeat of both Alyn Orkwood and Gran Goodbrother, the last and first man he had slain during the battle, "Tough as nails both of them, you are one hell of a fighter to have taken Gran down so early and still have the fight in you to kill Alyn two hours later."
Aerion was slightly surprised by the man's praise at first but quickly realized he valued strength above all else, "They were the toughest men I fought on the day. The Queen could have used their service… it is a shame the battle was not ended sooner."
"Aye that it is. I should have killed my brother years ago; he led our people closer to ruin then Balon ever did." Victarion said bitterly.
Garlan decided to pull them from their conversation, "You will of course have to cede control of all lands still in Ironborn control within the Reach."
Victarion nodded a grimace on his face, "I am aware Tyrell, they are few enough at this point it shouldn't be too difficult.
"Good," Loras said a little smugly, "then all there is left is to decide how you will be helping the war effort."
"Helping the war effort? Are you daft? We number only 3,500 fighting men and you expect us to help in the war." It was at that moment that Arya entered the tent having found the opportunity to remove the face she had donned for her assassination.
"You will help the war but the Queen will not bring what few men remain of the Ironborn to the front lines." Aerion knew that Arya was no fan of the Ironborn after what they did to the North when Robb was in the Westerlands. Her tone was frosty at best.
Victarion turned and eyed her skeptically, "Then what would the Dragon Queen ask of us?"
"You were able to take Moat Cailin once, should Stannis refuse to capitulate after we destroy the Boltons you will receive a Raven informing you to do so again." Arya stated plainly.
"Who are you exactly?" Victarion asked puzzled.
"You mean you haven't heard? I am Arya Stark." Victarion's wide eyes were all the response anyone needed. I am surprised he heard of my exploits in the war so far but not hers. Arya continued while the Greyjoy Lord was silent, "There would be little risk to your people as they must simply hold one of the most defensible positions in all the Kingdoms. Stannis is south of the Neck as far as I am to understand, near the Twins; if he refuses to surrender your retaking of the Moat will put him between a rock and a hard place."
Victarion shook himself and looked at her with something akin to respect, "You are definitely Ned Stark's child, I didn't like the man… he helped Robert lay us low but he was a good fighter and a better leader."
Arya nodded as she made her way over to Aerion. He embraced her and kissed the top of her head. Gods I am glad this ended so cleanly, it only could have been better if we could have postponed the fighting long enough to avoid the loss of so many of the Ironborn. Though Aerion only felt a slight sense of disappointment at the result of the battle; after all, he didn't particularly care for the Ironborn after what he had heard of their exploits. He heard Victarion bark a laugh, which was surprising from the usually stern man.
"Now that is a frightful sight; the man who killed the Mountain and a Stark woman with a mind just as good as her father's." Victarion didn't know that Arya was just as fearsome with a blade as her lover.
Aerion looked at the other three men, "If that is all, I would appreciate some rest after a long day of battle." Nobody had any protests and Aerion led her to their tent. He had yet to tend to his wounds and Arya quickly prepared boiling wine and a hot poker to clean and cauterize the slash on his shoulder.
He sat on their bed, shirt removed, and watched her work, "I know I'm asking the obvious but all went well?"
Arya chuckled as she pulled the boiling wine from over the fire, "Yes, I didn't even have to do the deed myself, a whispered word in a heated moment and Victarion was more than willing to do it for me."
"And the wailing noise I heard just before battle was joined? I imagine that was the dragon horn?"
"Victarion thought it would be an act of good faith for the Queen he was about to capitulate to, and you are correct, that noise came from the horn as it was struck upon the rocks beneath the Great Tower of Pyke." She poured the wine across his wound and watched as the muscles of his chest tensed in response.
Aerion let out a tired sigh, "The Queen will be pleased with how things turned out." Arya nodded and Aerion continued, "We do not have enough men to risk encountering the Boltons in the Riverlands. We should sail south and make landfall at the Crag, from there we could travel the Western Hills until we reach the River Road."
"A good plan but something to be discussed tomorrow." In truth Arya knew he was right and that they could not risk traveling to far north on their way to the Vale, she just had enough of battle and strife for the day and had no further desire to discuss the matter. She brought the hot iron and pressed it to Aerion's wound.
This time he hissed in pain as the five inch gash was closed immediately. This is the second time she has had to treat my wounds. I suppose I should count my blessings there has been no need to do the same for her. He stopped talking of battle and plans and simply opened his arms for her to join him in the furs. Arya quickly disrobed and joined him. They fell asleep quickly after the long and exhausting day they both faced.
AN:
Okay so this chapter turned out far longer than I originally expected.
I initially thought with the absence of Daenerys and the people Arya and Aerion have been interacting with for five chapters I would find it hard to find places to go… but then I started writing Garlan and I liked his character, and I started writing Mace and I disliked him and I found it easier this easier than I expected. Then I got to the battles and the assassination and it may have gotten away from me a bit.
I imagine some people may not like the way I had Arya kill Euron, and yes Arya killed Euron even if Victarion struck the deathblow. It is my opinion that a well placed word is as deadly as any poison particularly in the powder keg that is the Greyjoy sibling dynamic.
For everyone who doesn't know I started a Harry Potter/ Game of Thrones crossover. I was initially going to do two chapters of this for every one of that but because of the response I got to the story I am going to go chapter for chapter; honestly I don't see it being any sort of issue with how quickly I pump chapters out despite the size.
As always if you find any major errors let me know as I don't have a beta