Only a few more chapters to go now guys! Crew is growing and growing, any favourite characters yet? Hope you enjoy!
"They're um, bigger…" Jagare looked at Lyanna sharply. "They are, aren't they? It's not just me." She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and nodded blankly.
"Aye, there is no denying it, a week old and looking like six months according to Wendall." She picked up Alys who was sleeping soundly, her tiny fingers curling and uncurling around the blanket. Cradling her Lyanna looked nervously down at Alaric. He was even bigger than Alys, looking closer to the size of a one-year-old than a newborn. It had been a week since the birth and already Lyanna had recovered enough to be moving around the ship as freely as she ever had been. Wendel has advised staying away from combat for at least another week, but she wasn't having that. The first-moment Lyanna could she was whirling around the dojo, sparring with whoever dared face her. She had improved monumentally since the North and could now go almost match for match with Tommo and Aeron. In that week, however, both of their babes had grown at an extraordinary rate. Not just in size, but also in intellect. Both had already learned how to stand themselves up and babbled away almost comprehensibly. He glanced over at Lyanna to see a solemn look on her face. A knowing look.
"Lya…" he started, but she shook her head and looked down.
"Don't." But he persisted.
"Lya, you know why this is happening. I can see it in your eyes." A thought hit him, and he glanced over to the bedside table, where still the drained potion bottle lay. "Everything that Alyeth was sprouting; destiny, strength and power…what was in that potion?" She let out a heavy sigh and fixed him with a sharp look, bouncing Alys slightly as she stirred.
"Ale insisted it would give me a smooth birth and help the babes achieve their destiny. She just didn't mention how quickly they might grow." Jagare frowned at Lyanna's slight movement in the eye.
"I've known you since I can remember, I know when you lie Lya." He folded his arms. "She told you."
"Yes…yes she did." She turned away from him, so he moved to face her.
"Lya, I'm not angry. But you have to tell me what's happening to them ." She was silent for a few seconds then sighed.
"I…she- ugh, she told me that it wasn't her place to tell. Wanted someone else to explain it." His eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
"A man…In Myr." Jagare blinked and Lyanna turned pink with annoyance. "Yeah…Eyme, I know."
"That's…a coincidence, right?" She shrugged.
"Our babes growing magically fast, priests give us maps and prophecies, and we accidentally travel to the exact place we need to go…sounds like fate to me Jagare." Jagare gazed at her for a few seconds before looking down at Alaric, who's grey eyes met his own, blinking. He couldn't help but smile, and his son smiled back, toothless but happy.
"Ah what the hell" he grunted. "It hasn't led us wrong yet, so what my boy here grows up big and strong like his father." Lyanna chuckled and rolled her eyes, rocking Alys slowly.
"That's the spirit. Now come on, put the babes to sleep and let's get to it. Captains got to be seen on deck." He nodded whilst laying down Alaric, who yawned broadly and curled up into a little ball. There wasn't much that could hit Jagare's feelings, but that did it.
"I burnt the map" he muttered. "But the diagram I kept...I felt something when Romanus gave it to me." Lyanna shook her head.
"Any priest you ask of any religion will tell you the same thing. Magic is a double edged sword with no hilt. Trying to understand any of this..." Jagare nodded, placing his hand on the door.
"Agreed, best we leave it for now." They left the cabin and Jagare had to yank Lyanna backwards as a figure came running past, crashing into the rail and almost tumbling overboard.
"You speak to the lady like that again, AND I THROW YOU TO THE SHARKS!" the figure on the ground rose, a sheepish grin on his face. Camerlron.
"But my good fellow, I was merely making conversation. Is a man to be punished for asking if a girl has-" The other man forced his way past Jagare and hoisted up Cam by his tunic.
"I would advise you not to finish that sentence, bard" Leyton hissed.
"And I would advise you to let my man go. Now!" The drawling purr of Eyme Yronwood floated across the deck as she strode up to the man. "Did you not hear me? Release him." He turned around with a scowl, his burly form keeping Cam in a tight grip.
"I don't take orders from Dornish whore-"
"Enough!" snapped Jagare. "Leyton, let the bard go." He growled and dropped Cam, his body falling to the floor with a thump and a groan. "Cam, get up, and apologise." Cam glared at him as he pulled himself up on the rail.
"I said nothing wrong."
"Do it" Jagare growlled menacingly. Cam sighed, and shrugged.
"I apologise for asking a question-"
"Mean it" Lyanna growled menacingly. Although they didn't hear the comment made, he thought he had a good idea of what was said.
"Very well" Cam groaned. "I apologise, Ser Leyton, for my crude and wild tongue. I beg your forgiveness." The knight spat on the floor and walked away. Jagare turned on Cam who looked at him with expectant eyes.
"No more courting highborn ladies" he spoke sharply. "And Eyme, I give the orders on the ship, you have no command on here except for over Camerlron. So, keep him in line." She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away, but he noticed something on her belt, or two somethings rather. "Wait…those daggers. Where did you get them?" She looked back at him and raised an eyebrow.
"These?" She drew one and twirled the blade through her fingers. It was a slim blade, curved at the top and wickedly sharp. Although the sheaths were definitely different, he knew that blade from somewhere…but where? "These were a purchase I made in the Shadow City market. Twin daggers from the Assassins guild of Old Ghis. The guild was destroyed with the rest of the Ghiscari of course, but a certain Qohorik smith apparently still makes them for the Disciples of Death, a new guild that sprung up in and around the free cities. These ones, however, are originals." She smirked at him and sheathed the weapon. "Why?" Jagare closed his eyes to think.
"I've seen one, someone before. I do not remember where, but I feel it is important. How many others are there?" She shrugged.
"Less than a hundred I would say but spread over the entire known world. More than half are most likely lost never to be found." As she walked away, he felt Lyanna take his hand and squeeze it.
"I've seen it too" she muttered. "Can't remember where, but I have." He nodded slowly.
"It's important. Don't know why but it is." He looked over at her and smiled. "Is someone watching the babes?" She frowned.
"Well, Faythe is meant to…ah, here she is." Faythe came running up the stairs her face red.
"Sorry I'm late" she panted. "Aimee would not shut up. I now know everything there is to know about colour wheels and gradient schemes" she said in a matter-of-fact way. Lyanna giggled slightly and stepped aside.
"The babes are in our cabin, just send a runner if there is a problem." The girl nodded and darted off towards the cabin. Lyanna sighed contently. "It's good she and Aimee have something to do now, watching the babes while we work. Gives them a purpose on the bloody ship full of men." He frowned as they started walking.
"My ship is full of purposed and loyal soldiers; bloody they may be." Lyanna pursed her lips.
"I'm not denying that Jagare, only it can be quite intimidating for a woman on a ship full of sailors, and Ironborn sailors at that. I'm just saying it's good they have a purpose now, something to keep them busy."
"Wendel's been tutoring Aimee on life at sea when he can" Jagare argued. "Yet I admit it is a relief to have Leyton occupied as well. The bloody knight has been getting on my nerves recently." Until a few days ago, Leyton had done little more than hover around Aimee, his gaze strangely judgemental in Jagare's opinion. And then when Eyme and Camerlron joined them, he became even moodier, but it seemed forced, as if he was determined to let his realms hatred of Dornishmen shine through. But he had seen true hate, and that's not what it was. Something else was amiss. To keep Leyton occupied, Jagare had instructed him to train the Ironborn officers in battlefield command, showing them how to use flags, runners and signals to order different movements.
"The sooner we get them off our ship, the better, I should think" Lyanna murmured.
"Something tells me we will not have to wait long."
"Either that or they just kill each other." Jagare snorted in laughter and nodded as they made their way across the deck. It was early morning, so the soldiers were being drilled on deck by the sellswords. Cragg and Merri showed the pikemen how to interlock their spears and shields together to form a deadly spear wall, and Angie showed the infantrymen how to switch from their short bows to blades quickly to give them a speed advantage. The training was coming on well, and although Jagare had no will to send his men into an unnecessary battle, he was almost hoping a lone pirate ship would stumble upon them. A large shock would await those fools.
"Morning captain" came the combined voices from his guard, whom he nodded appreciatively back at. Tommo and Wendel were training on the foredeck, their bodies silhouetted in the midday sun. After a little bit of confidence and training from Tommo and Lemnos, Wendel had transformed into a comfortable and formidable warrior, twirling his mace around with expert awareness of Tommo's blade. They broke apart and waved when Jagare passed by.
"How are the babes?" Wendel asked excitedly, mopping his brow. They exchanged a glance and Lyanna winced.
"They are fine…but we should have a talk later about their…growth." He looked very confused. The pair of them then reached the stables where the two Dornish sand steeds were grazing in their stall. He had chosen not to name them yet, waiting until his children grew enough to name them themselves, which looked to be much sooner than he had expected. He approached the male one and crouched down to its level, stroking its muzzle slowly.
"Our children will be claiming these horses much sooner than I anticipated," he remarked, Lyanna chuckling softly.
"Yes, well it was a lovely birth present for them I must say, even though it came with…her." Jagare raised an eyebrow with a small smirk.
"What's your problem with Eyme? Intimidated." She made a face at him and shook her head.
"As if, I could take her easily" she scoffed. "It's just…she seems so free and strong, you know?"
"So are you" he replied, slightly confused. "Strong, fierce, and as beautiful as the Northern sky." Lyanna smirked at him, but a slight tinge of red appeared on her cheeks.
"You flatter me lover. But its just...she wields a blade and no man tells her what to do, and yet she's still a lady of a noble powerful house. That's all I ever wanted, so I'm slightly..."
"Jealous?" He wasn't joking either, simply stating a fact. She nodded slowly, walking over to her horse, and stroking its flank.
"Envious really. Why does she get it and I don't." Jagare moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"I understand. But that's just Dorne, it's different from the North. From everywhere really." She sighed contently into his arms.
"I just…I feel like she represents what a highborn lady can be like if she was respected for her position. Eyme is…well she's a lady; but independent, strong, and powerful. She can fight and lead as well as being the perfect noblewomen at court." He took her hand in his and clasped it.
"Lya, you are all those things. All of them!" She looked up at him sadly and smiled.
"Thank you, my love. But look how long, and far we had to go for it to be that way." He shook his head and cupped her cheek gently.
"That doesn't matter. You are who you were always meant to be. Eyme had it easy, you know how Dornishwomen are treated here. You had to fight for it, and that makes you stronger." She grinned up at him and then smirked.
"And I could totally beat her in a fight, correct?" He kissed her on the forehead and helped her rise.
"Without a doubt."
"Oh, is that so then?" They both whipped around to see the lady in question leaning against the door, with a small smirk on her face. Lyanna turned red and flipped her hair away from her face.
"I-I didn't mean to insult you, Lady Eyme." The Dornishwomen shook her head and waved it away.
"I understand, but now you mention it, I would be interested to see the outcome. I did make sure that my scimitar was packed with my possessions. What do you say?" Lyanna smirked and cracked her knuckles.
"Oh boy" Jagare muttered.
"I accept your challenge, Lady Eyme. Our main deck should be appropriate, give the men a show at the same time." Eyme took a step forward and smirked back.
"Oh, I am no stranger to giving the men a show with another lady, in that I am positive I shall excel." Her voice was a seductive purr and even Jagare felt himself go woozy for a second. Lyanna simply crossed her arms and gave her a sharp look.
"We shall see."
"Aeron will be overjoyed" he muttered, to which Eyme's eyes widened slightly. Interesting.
"I shall go prepare" Lyanna stated, whipping her hair and exiting, leaving just Eyme and Jagare.
"Should you not armour up as well, my lady?" Eyme giggled then smirked at him.
"Oh no captain, I armour down." He gulped as she floated past him. By midday, the spar had been set up. Lyanna wore her chain and leather armour, with flexible steel gauntlets wrought in the Dornish style. Although she was far superior with a bow, that would not be allowed in a duel and so she wielded a simple longsword that she had bought in Lannisport, slightly shorter than a regular one. Try to her word, Eyme wore very little armour and even fewer clothes. She wore a set of light Dornish leathers that left almost nothing to the imagination, with seemingly nothing else but small clothes. She had abandoned her daggers and grasped a jewelled and embroidered Dornish scimitar, curved and deadly sharp. Almost every member of the crew was gawking at her with open mouths, something that Aeron seemed to be scowling at. Although Jagare had not heard himself, Wendel's cabin was directly next to Aeron's, and he had apparently gotten very little sleep since they had left Dorne. Tommo stepped forward, a grin on his face as he gazed between the two of them. He was loving it.
"Let the duel begin. FIGHT." The duel started simple, the two of them simply trading blows carefully, testing each other's moves and tactics. There were no two fighting styles more dissimilar in Westeros than that of Northern and Dornish. Northern fighting was a planned ruthlessness, careful analysing defence until a weakness was spotted and then a ruthless all-out attack. In battle, the analysing was normally forgotten, replaced with an even greater ferocity and cool anger. The Dornish style was far more elegant. Descending from the Rhoynish spear wielders, they twisted and twirled with practised expertness, confusing their opponent with carefully placed swings and stabs until they let their guard down. Both of these styles were being represented by the two lady warriors in front of him. A stab followed by a parry, a slash followed by a twirl, round and round the deck, they went.
"Come on Lya!" cheered Wendel, as did most of the crew. They all loved their queen of the ship. The only other culture apart from the North and Dorne that allowed women to wield blades was the Iron Isles, so the men were cheering like mad for Lyanna.
"Get her milady" Cam countered, watching intently, receiving hisses. Aeron looked conflicted as to whom to cheer for, and instead stayed silent. Even Leyton who's view on women warriors was disapproving, joined in with a cheer and a grin, whilst Aimee and Faythe looked on perched on top of barrels.
"Arrange this yourself did you?" Tommo asked, sidling up to him. Jagare rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smirk.
"Better here than out of anger another time." Lyanna trapped Eyme's blade and sliced upwards, then used her shoulder to force Eyme back. An old northern tactic, brute strength mixed with close fighting.
"You think Lya can win?" Jagare's eyes gleamed as yet again Lyanna batted away Eyme's strikes, even predicting her spin and sending her off balance.
"With the amount she trains everyday, I should hope so." Eventually, both fighters seemed to be tiring, and Lyanna's heavier armour and more ferocious attack style started to take their toll. Eyme took this in her stride, baiting Lyanna into attacks whilst skipping away to regain her energy. Soon, Lyanna would be out of breath completely, and Eyme would be free to disarm her.
"Come on lass, remember your skill!" came the voice of Lemnos, who had done his fair share in training Lyanna up to use a blade. "Your Northern, use it!" Lyanna ducked under a swing and bought her sword up to block a strike. She then lost her strength and stepped back suddenly. Eyme grinned and pressed her advance, pushing down on her blade with two hands to force Lyanna down. Jagare felt the wind blowing on his face harshly but was focused on Lyanna. But something was wrong with her stance. Her face was red and hot, yes, but her eyes were focused, and her arms were still. Suddenly she broke the connection and darted to the side, putting Eyme off her step. Eyme stumbled forward and hurriedly parried a wild strike from Lyanna, who then forced her back. Eyme tried to strike and spin again, but Lyanna kept throwing wild heavy strikes towards her, forcing a rushed parry. The sound of metal on metal was deafening, and it was clear Eyme was receiving the worst of the force. But if Lyanna didn't finish it now, she would be too tired to go another round. Eventually, Eyme let out a yell of annoyance and swung back at Lyanna, but it was slow and predictable. Lyanna parried it and forced her down to the deck. Already off-balance, Eyme crumbled into a pile, to the cheers of the crew.
"Yield" smirked Lyanna, her sword pointed at Eyme's chest. The Dornishwomen looked murderous until her eyes widened at something behind Lyanna.
"Is that a…" Jagare turned, and his heart froze at the sight off the starboard deck. Darkening clouds stretched towards the east until they formed a ginormous torrent in the distance, angry and lit with lightning.
"STORMMMM!" The entire crew fell silent and the second stretched into minutes. It was only then that Jagare truly noticed the strength of the wind blowing. The lightning crackled in the clouds and in the distance cracks of thunder echoed through the sky. Time resumed and Jagare's heart burned with anger. "WHO THE FUCK WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE CROWS NEST!" Jagare yelled, racing towards the mast, forcing crew members out of his way.
"D-Derrick was" stuttered one of the sailors beside him. "But n-no one's seen him since t-this morning." Insubordination could be dealt with later, right now, Jagare had a storm the size of Oldtown bearing down on top of him.
"MEN, MAN THE SAILS, I WANT FULL SPEED NOW! THAT STORM IS COMING TO FUCK US, BUT WE'RE GOING TO BEAT IT!" Men around him started running and shouting at each other, pulling sheets, and running to oars. Wendel grabbed his arm and turned him around.
"Jagare! That storm is coming to us from the middle of the narrow sea, if it reaches us, it has had the entire strait to build strength, it will rip our sails apart!" Wendel's face was truly terrified, the most he had ever seen him.
"That's why we're going to fucking beat it" growled Jagare. "Now go read your maps, and get me a heading away from this storm!" Wendel nodded and hurried off. "Lyanna! He raced over to her as she was helping Eyme up. "Lya, go to the babes. Makes sure they are secure somehow; this could get rough."
"I'll go with her" drawled Eyme. She raised her eyebrow at their surprised looks. "You have gained my respect through this duel; I will protect them in return." Jagare turned to Lyanna and wordlessly kissed her passionately. They broke off after a couple of seconds and she looked firmly at him with a clear look, 'Come back to me.' He nodded and turned back to the deck. Leyton and Aimee were rushing for the cabins, and he gave Leyton an assertive nod.
"DON'T COME OUT TILL I GIVE THE CLEAR."
"AYE CAPTAIN" he barked back at Jagare. Cam stood dumbstruck, staring at the storm.
"CAM!" He ran up to the bard, grabbing him on the shoulder. "If you do not think you can help, fine, get below and stay out of the way. But if you can…" Cam nodded furiously, his eyes narrowing.
"Not my first one captain. I might be a singer but I'm no craven. I'll get an oar." Jagare clasped on the shoulder again and gave him a small smile. He then turned and ran up to the stern deck to find Aeron on the wheel with Wendel shouting at him.
"Captain!" yelled Aeron over the growing wind. "We're going to keep course for Bloodstone, aim for its western coast. A landmass may be the only thing that will slow that storm down."
"Turning back not an option?" Aeron shook his head.
"It would beat us before we got to Sunspear, we'd be dashed on the rocks. And that's not to mention the angry Ironborn maniac." It was a very fair point.
"Very well, how far till the island."
"We'll be pushing her like never before" muttered Wendel determinedly. "But we should be able to meet the island before it hits us."
"I've seen storms like this before Jagare." Aeron fixed his fierce green eye on the distant storm. "The moment it gets in line with the Arm of Dorne, it will turn west. As long as we get to the island, it will blow us into the Sea of Dorne. If not, the aftershocks will send waves as tall as the wall and winds that will tear through wood."
"Very well" he yelled back. "Now let's beat this storm." But his words were drowned out as a massive gust of wind caught the sails. The ship lurched up and then crashed down into a wave. The sails filled with the gust, and they rocketed forwards, sending crew and soldiers alike sprawling across the deck, one unlucky man being chucked overboard with a scream. Jagare leapt towards the rail to spot him, but another gust took them from the side, keeling the ship over to its port. Men barely having risen were felled again, and Jagare had to grab onto to the railing to stop himself from falling with them.
"FUCK" he cried out as two more men went wailing overboard. Tommo came bounding up the stairs and promptly tripped over a rising Wendall.
"Move Mormont!" he yelled and sprawled over to Jagare.
"What news!" Jagare roared over the howling wind.
"Leyton and Aimee are safe below deck, Cam has taken up an oar and Faythe is running around the deck fetching ropes and tools, I couldn't find Eyme!" Jagare clasped him on the shoulder and nodded.
"She's with Lyanna and the babes!" Tommo nodded and then looked at Jagare pleadingly.
"Jagare…we can't outrun this storm. We must furl sails." He felt pained. To let the storm smash right into them would damage the ship and risk his men's lives. That wasn't a decision he could make easily. He looked over at Aeron, who's green eye sparkled with worry.
"We can go for a little long maybe, but as soon as we hit Bloodstone we must furl. There's no shame in letting a storm toss you around a bit…no one is stronger than the sea."
"BLOODSTONE AHOY" came a bellow from the crow's nest, and sure enough there it was. Time moved different as they battled the vanguard of the storm, but the moment they touched the lee of the westernmost Stepstone, he made the decision.
"Tommo, go alert the oarsmen to pull back, Wendall, make sure everything that moves is tied down, and Aeron…make the call." Over the wind and sharp rain that was starting to fall, he gazed over at the storm that was floating steadily closer to them.
"Bring it on you fucker" he muttered under his breath. It almost seemed to cackle back at him through the thunder. He had once heard that thunder was the gods beating their drums, and that lightning was their torches held aloft, ready for war. The storm was unlike anything Jagare had experienced before. The crossing to Bear Island, merely a year ago now, was nothing compared to the swell and dip of the waves, and the sheer power of the wind. Many of the soldiers had taken refuge below deck, tying down the hold, plugging leaks or just staying out of the way. The most skilled had joined the crew, and all those on deck had tied long ropes around themselves, lashing themselves to the part of the ship they served. The bravest of them ran between the groups, relaying messages for instructions and orders. Aeron had lashed himself to the wheel, the swell and waves only making him crazier and more frenzied. His eye flashed with hungry malice against the storm as he spun them this way and that to counter swells and gusts. At one-point Eyme had come out to update him on Lyanna and the babes, that all three were safe inside a great cabinet in their cabin that had been nailed into the ship. When she caught a glance of Aeron yelling orders and laughing like a madman she had frozen with a whimper.
"GET BACK BELOW" Jagare bellowed, as one of the railings tore loose and whipped across the rear deck. She quickly departed. Jagare had tied himself up at the foredeck, making sure the entire crew could see him still above deck. If a King were to disappear from the battle, all men would lose heart. It was the same on a ship, he would lead his men until they outlasted the storm. Waves crashed against the wood, and the wind ripped at his skin like needles, but he stayed. Gritted teeth narrowed eyes and clenched hands, he stayed. At one point the waves had parted and showed him the torrent of blackened blue clouds, stretching into the sky like a fist. He found himself talking aloud.
"If there is a god" he mumbled. "Surely, this must be it." When the storm died it was midnight. The stars twinkled soundlessly above them, the clouds non-existent and the wind still. For half a day, the storm had battered them until it had spat them out…where? He saw the storm drifting off into the distance, its course most likely for the coast of Dorne or beyond into the Summer Sea. He could ask no more of his men that day and tiredly made the order that with no wind and little tide, they would simply take bearing in the morning. He found Lyanna and his children in their cabin, the babes sound asleep and Lyanna pale and tearful. When he entered, he collapsed onto a knee, his breath short and hard.
"Are we…" Lyanna choked on a sob, her hair falling rough across her face.
"Safe. Yes." He took the babes from her, both passed out from screaming he guessed.
"Where are we?" she asked quietly, clambering out of the cupboard with shaky legs.
"We don't know" he responded quietly. "But none of us are in a position to find out. We need sleep." She nodded and wordlessly they crawled into bed, Alys and Alaric snuggled between them and in moments he was asleep. For the first time in a long while, he had a dream. Snowstorm ploughed its way through the storm once more, except this time it was only him on deck, only him against the might of the gods. A particularly large wave smashed into him, nearly dragging him away from the wheel, but he held true. When he looked up once more, the storm had taken human form. A god, the size of the titan of Braavos, his stormy eyes and black beard cast fear of Jagare like never before. In one hand he held a golden three pronged spear, and when he raised it the sea erupted. When the sea calmed, he saw the lights of a city in the distance. Somehow, he knew it was Volantis, oldest and most powerful of the Free Cities. Though he had never seen it, he recognised the long bridge, stretching clear across the city. A voice spoke from beside him, the god he had seen towering over him only moments ago, now as tall as Jagare, yet still the same power radiated off him. When he spoke, the words appeared in his head like his head was being submerged in water. 'You have ignored your fate, Snowstorm. Now my brother shall have his due.' Jagare tried to speak, but his words turned to ashes in his mouth and his tongue fell sluggishly in his mouth. 'The storm was meant to help you, push you east with speed enough to ensure safe travel. You may be favoured, but you are not untouchable, and you denied our help'. Lightning crackled overhead, and the figure morphed into another face, blue eyed and terrifying. 'Now you shall SUFFER!' Jagare burst awake with a yell, drenched in sweat as thunder rumbled outside. Somehow Lyanna and the babes had not awoken, so Jagare lay back down, his heart beating hot and heavy as the nightmare swirled through his mind.
The next morning, he called a meeting in his cabin to assess the situation they were in. His inner circle attended, along with Cragg, and Angie who had come to act as a second in command for his guard. Eyme, Aimee and Faythe were looking after the babes and discussing…other things. What he only could have guessed. Leyton had also chosen to join, his large build filling a sizeable space in the room. Jagare's body ached and his head was sore, and although he heard talking, little stayed in his mind. Tommo reported that they had lost ten to the ocean, good men. Aeron made a prayer to his god and Wendel crossed their names out of a large book; then they continued. Ten lives, now only numbers on a page. Lemnos reported that the ship had only sustained minor damage, mostly in the mast and sails. The ironwood hull had held strong against the waves, but the masts were not as strong, and sails had been ripped away from the holdings. Overall, they could only move at half the speed they normally could. Wendel declared that after consulting the maps, compass, and sun, they had been swung straight into the Sea of Dorne, an enclosed body of water bordered by Dorne to the south and west and the Stormlands to the north.
"And what do we think happened to the Greyjoy ships?" muttered Lyanna tiredly, Aeron's head shooting up. Wendel shrugged helplessly.
"It depends on how far behind us they were. My guess however is that the storm hit them the same as us."
"But they were closer to Dorne," remarked Aeron. "Terran is smart, he would have turned back to a landmass. He would have seen the storm coming and found shelter in a cove."
"Which means we have gained valuable time" stated Jagare. "If Terran took all the precautions, we have gained a lead on him. We shall not waste it. Let's raise sails and move towards Myr." There was a low rumble of agreement, but Wendel coughed and shook his head.
"Captain, after a storm the wind barely moves for at least a day, we would be running solely on oar power. Not only will that nullify our advantage over Terran, if another storm caught us we would be torn apart. The rigging would be fully torn away and we would be stranded in the Narrow Sea with no hopes of repair. And that's not even mentioning the state of the men after rowing such a distance."
"Aye, he's right" Aeron spoke, his eyebrows furrowed. "By our oar speed and considering Terrans projected speed if he took shelter…he will catch up to us as soon as we'd left the Stepstones."
"Could we go through them?" Tommo asked, his eyes weary. "The stepstones, I mean. We could stop often if needed, resupply and repair at Tyrosh."
"No" Cam spoke, fidgeting with his lute strings. "The Stepstones are crawling with Pirate Lords."
"Pirate Lords?" Cragg grunted.
"I believe the official definition is a pirate with more than ten ships under his command" Wendel muttered.
"The stepstones are the perfect place for pirate dens" Aeron growlled. "Hidden coves, secret passages, and the perfect defense in the rocky banks around the islands."
"If we sail through the stepstones, we'd be contesting at least a half dozen lords" Cam grimaced. "A ship could make it if they went straight through at high speed, but by sailing through we might as well tie ourselves to the mast and welcome them aboard." Jagare sighed and rubbed his temples.
"So we sail through and risk being swarmed by pirates, or we keep our course and risk Terran catching up."
"Not risk, captain" Aeron winced. "Make no mistake, he will find us."
"Then we let him!" rumbled Lemnos. "Captain, I think I speak not only for myself when I say that we are tired of running! Let us face him, show him true steel." Lemnos grinned under his beard; he was longing for a fight it was clear. He glanced at Cragg who coughed slightly and nodded.
"The men are progressing in their training surprisingly well…for Ironborn." Aeron shot a glare at him.
"Find me better deck fighters Craggy, I dare you."
"Craggy!"
"Enough" Jagare grunted. "Continue." Cragg's eyes moved back to Jagare.
"One hundred men in each section, and each to work together as a unit well…I reckon we could take them."
"But at how much of a loss" spoke Lyanna. "To our men and the ship." Cragg folded his arms, eyes boring into Jagare.
"Aye, men will die. What of it? This is war, men die in war. That is as it should be. As it always has been." Jagare stood up, his fists clenched and his eyes burning.
"We. Are. Not. At. War" he ground through gritted teeth. Cragg shook his head.
"No, but they are." There was silence for a few moments before he continued. "You are my captain, my lord, and my leader. I will follow your every command…but one day you both need to understand that you cannot avoid every battle for the sake of every life. Terran's men will die as well, and believe me, he will not care for them and that will be your downfall." The room was silent as Jagare stood, contemplating the words. It was true, if he tried to protect his men to much, they could be caught unawares and vulnerable. He was about to order the command, when another voice interjected.
"If I may, captain." The voice came from Angie, who had been as always keeping his head low.
"Speak" growled Jagare, still glaring at Cragg.
"Well, it's just…I see a third option here. Somewhere else we could go." He tore his gaze away and looked at Angie, whose lips were curling into a smile.
"Go on then, where?"
"Stonehelm" he spoke proudly. Out of the corner of his eye, Jagare saw Leyton's head rise, and for a small second, a flash of shock.
"Stonehelm... Where is it?" Angie strode across the room and looked at the collection of maps, sorting through them until he found the one he wanted. Laying it across the table, it showed the Sea of Dorne as well as the land mass on all sides for a few leagues from each compass point. He pointed to a large cove, where a river flowed into the sea from the Stormlands.
"There, at the mouth of the Slayne. It's ruled by Lady Eleanor Swann, but she takes her lead from her brother, Lord Maximus Dondarrion, as do the Selmys, Carrons and Mertyns!" He looked at them excitedly. "Lord Dondarrion's sister rules Stonehelm, and the two of them have transformed the Marches and Cape Wrath into a thriving land, building up the towns and cities to extend trade with the Reach and Essos. They'll have fresh ports and plenty a shipbuilder to repair Snowstorm.
"The Swanns and the Dondarrions are sworn to the Durrandons," remarked Tommo with a surprised look. He glanced at Leyton, who was watching them cautiously, clearly wanting to say something. "We have Jaime Durrandon's runaway bride on our ship. The Stormlands are not our friends." Cam's eyes drifted momentarily to Leyton, then back to Jagare.
"Aye" Jagare replied. "And I can't imagine that Ser Hightower here, or Eyme for that matter will be too excited about stepping foot in the Stormlands." Leyton inclined his head, clearly in the agreement. "It's too risky Angie, what if we are found out and given to King Durrandon?" But Angie stepped forward, his voice hard and tense.
"Captain, when I was a lad, my father used to be a bowman in Lord Dondarrions household, and I was one of the stable bows before I took up his bow. I remember the young lord because he used to be a bastard! We would train together when the lords weren't looking."
"A bastard? A bastard controls half the Stormlands?" asked Wendel slowly. He then glanced at Jagare hurriedly. "Sorry, captain. I-I didn't mean-"
"No, it's okay Wendel" Jagare interrupted calmly. "I am of the same mind in fact. Continue, Angie." The bowman nodded.
"Well, he's not a bastard any longer. His two brothers died, and his sister was already married off to the Lord of Stonehelm, who died shortly after. His father had no siblings and no one else bore the Dondarrion name. Sure, he had some long-lost cousin in the Reach, but he wanted to pass Blackhaven to someone of his own blood. Didn't want to let his legacy die. So, he used an old favour with the current Storm King to have him legitimised, to carry on the Dondarrion name." Jagare sat back, a small smile on his face. A good story he was fond of. A story where a bastard came out on top, even better.
"A fine story" spoke Aeron. "But why would that stop him from turning us into his king? A legitimised bastard can often be quite submissive due to how they were raised." He glanced at Jagare. "Again, no offence."
"Taken that time" Jagare growled, causing Aeron to step back. He motioned again for Angie to speak, but the archer shook his head.
"I could only guess the man he has turned into. I was thinking only from builder to repair the sails." Jagare nodded.
"Luckily, we have a master of information amoung us." All eyes in the room slowly turned to Cam, who while normally excited to share his knowledge, looked uneasy. "Camerlron, what do you know of the lord?" Cam exhaled and spoke.
"In short..." Once again, his eyes flickered to Leyton. "We would be perfectly safe docking at Stonehelm." Muttering filled the room, confusion mixing with distrust.
"Why not exactly" Wendel demanded. Cam gave one last look at Leyton before letting out a quick breath and returning to his usual vigor.
"He won't turn us in, because it's well-known amoung the Stormlords that Lord Maximus and King Jaime are not on the best of terms." Leyton snorted.
"That's putting it mildly bard, they hate each others guts." Jagare looked back to Cam.
"They used to be friends see, best friends. But then the King made some mistakes, public ones…Lord Maximus is a just man, honourable. The King less so. They were tense for years, but at a feast he drunkenly tried forcing himself on Lord Maximus's sister, but was discovered. The king apologised heavily after, gave Maximus and his sister all sorts of concessions and gifts. It would have never come to war, but many of the Stormlords lost respect and loyalty for their king that day. The Dornish Marches especially, as all those lords remembered Lord Dondarrions sweet daughter growing up, and swore eternal loyalty to Lord Maximus as their true liege lord since that day. After the war have practically become their own Kingdom. They receive no help whatsoever from the king, completely self-sufficient."
"That's impossible" Wendel murmured. "An act of rebellion, the King would be in full right to declare it treason."
"No, he wouldn't" Tommo spoke up, surprisingly.
"Never knew you for a man of law Tommo" Jagare spoke jokingly. Tommo shrugged and continued.
"Every highborn around White Harbour knows it. Do you not remember the Manderly uprising?"
"The Manderly's rose in rebellion?" Lyanna asked, awestruck. Justifiably too, there was no bannermen more loyal to the Starks than the Manderlys, at least until now of course.
"Turned out the King in the North wasn't actually a Stark, but a bastard of a Bolton who had seduced the queen." Tommo picked his nails while telling the story. "The Manderly's knew the truth, but hadn't the strength to take on the Stark's alone. So the heir to White Harbour convinced the other Lords of the Broken Branch. Houses Locke, Flint, Breakstone, the lot, all swore direct allegiance to White Harbour, and as White Harbour was still technically a Vassal of the Stark's, the houses hadn't committed treason."
"They were attacked without proof, weren't they?" Wendel asked.
"Whole North rose" Tommo stated simply. "The old kings brother led a coup in Winterfell while the bastard was fighting, took the North from the illegitimate Usurper."
"So your saying that Lord Maximus is rebellious, but still inside the law" Jagare spoke, his mind whirring.
"Aye" Cam replied, finally. "He's keeping the peace, paying his taxes, but all the other lords no longer pledge fealty to Storms End. They've pledged to Blackhaven. To Maximus."
"He can't be that rebellious" growled Leyton. "Because he led the vanguard charge against my men at the battle of Hornhill. Slew a friend of mine."
"So?" Aeron asked. Leyton glared at him.
"If he was truly rebellious, he would have defected to our side, or at least stayed neutral. With the strength of the Stormlands cut in half, we might have stood half a chance." Aeron winced.
"I apologise for that ser, I did not wish to offend." The knight nodded softly.
"It's okay. It was war after all, and we will have justice one day." Jagare flinched at the comment but quickly played it off as an off-handed remark. He turned to Lyanna, who was looking at Cam curiously.
"Speak Lya, please." She nodded.
"Why did he follow his king then, if he was so rebellious." Cam shook his head slightly.
"That's the thing, he wasn't planning to rebel. The Stormlands were united for their invasion of the Reach only because Lord Maximus wanted to prove his mettle to the Storm Lords just in case he ever needed to dethrone the king. Lord Maximus is powerful, yes, and a good ruler. But he is not unjust. He has no claim on the Stormland's and so will not take it. If he ever did revolt, it would be to place another Durrandon on the throne, not himself."
"Are there any others?" Aeron asked, while Wendel pulled down a book of the lines of Kings from a shelf.
"A few old men, a few married women. He has a nephew, but the boy is barely three. None a suitable king." Jagare exchanged a look with Aeron, both thinking the same.
"And if he did attack..."
"He'd win" Cam spoke with finality. "Believe me, he has the numbers, plus..." he trailed off, then shook his head. "Other Stormlords would join him too."
"And yet he still won't..." Cam shook his head.
"He hasn't changed since we were children then" Angie grinned. "Always was a good one."
"Good gods" Jagare mumbled. The room was silent for a few moments before it was broken by a long whistle.
"Well," chuckled Tommo. "It seems we have a destination. Set course for Stonehelm people!"
"Tommo, shut up, I'm captain" growled Jagare. There were a few low chuckles in the room. "If we are for some reason turned away, we are well and truly fucked."
"We could try for Yronwood?" Cam spoke. "As a backup." But Aeron shook his head with a grunt.
"Terran will realise soon enough that we did not go north. We can confuse him sailing around the Sea of Dorne for a while, but if we go as far as Yronwood, he'll catch up to us." Aeron turned to Jagare. "Its Stonehelm, pirates, or Terran." Jagare stood from his chair, cracking his neck.
"Angie" he turned to the archer with a forceful stare. "You swear that if we dock at Stonehelm, we will not be turned away." Angie grinned broadly.
"By the old gods and the new."
"And that this Lord Maximus is truly a good and just man, as you say?"
"I swear."
"Well then" Jagare murmered, clapping Tommo on the shoulders. "You heard this little shit Wendel, set a course for Stonehelm!" The ship lurched into order and soon they had begun a slow row towards Cape Wrath. The booming voice of Lemnos rang out over the water as the men heaved and heaved towards their destination. Meanwhile, Jagare stood on the foredeck explaining the situation to his passengers. To his surprise, Leyton seemed vastly more troubled by their destination outside of the meeting. His face was bright red and voice high and strained. But like his previous annoyance at Eyme, it seemed forced. Eyme herself looked unabashed, but Jagare knew what she thought.
"You want us to go directly into the den of our enemies!?" spat Leyton, his face red and seething. "You would put my cousin, my ward, directly into the place we tried so hard to rescue her from-"
"I do not appreciate your tone, Ser Leyton" Jagare shot back, withholding the anger behind the words. "Remember, I am still captain of this ship and I decide where we go."
"I do hate to agree with the muscled prude over there" purred Eyme. "But I agree that a Reachman and Dornishwomen in the Stormlands is not a good idea. Besides, I paid for passage to Myr, not Stonehelm."
"Our journey to Myr would have been slow and dangerous without repairs to the ship" ground out Jagare. "We would have been vulnerable to pirates and more storms; not to mention Terran Greyjoy on his path of bloody vengeance. This is the safest and potentially quickest option." Eyme rolled her eyes impatiently.
"This fucking Greyjoy. He is not my problem, just turn around and kill him you craven!" For some reason, her words did not affect him as they normally would have, and he simply rolled his eyes and turned back to Leyton.
"We will not stay long, I promise. I trust Angie and I believe that you too have heard the rumours of Lord Maximus's disloyalty." Leyton froze, his eyes meeting Eyme's, then nodded, saying nothing more.
"Oh please, everyone has heard of this Lord Maximus" groaned Eyme. "They are calling him 'Saviour of the Stormlands' in the Marches, but he is most like just another cocky lord."
"And you are any different to him how?" he shot back, causing Leyton to stifle a rare laugh.
"And what would you have us do when we arrive there?" remarked Eyme, her eyes narrowed. Jagare shrugged and began to walk off.
"Stay on the ship and fuck Aeron for all I care, but my mind is made up." As he walked away from them, he pulled aside one of the sailors aside.
"The insubordinate sailor…Derrick. Has he been found?" The sailor shook his head.
"No cap'n, we can't find im. Hammock empty and not a trace of im. Might of bin he went over" Jagare nodded and clapped him on the back. He made his way back towards his cabin but was approached by Cam.
"Bard, what do you want" he grunted.
"There is more to the situation than I told you in the meeting" Cam spoke, his face smug from the knowledge that his information held all the power. "I thought you may want to hear the rest of my contributions in private, to avoid looking unknowledgable." Jagare sighed. The bard annoyed him, but that intelligence was useful he couldn't deny it.
"Go on then, what do your little birds tell you?" Cam smirked at sat down on a barrel, strumming a long note on his lute.
"The Dondarrion faction is growing in power. All of the Dornish Marches have sworn to him and he is working his way through the Lords of Cape Wrath. Soon he will have over half the Storm Lords on his side. And what's more, the King is away from his Kingdom, fighting another war." Jagare came to attention at that.
"Another one? Bloody hell…" These fucking kings. How on earth did they find the men willing to fight? "Who against?" Cam grimaced looking down.
"The Dragonlords, Jagare" he muttered. "The last Dragonlords. He made a pact with the Riverlords to clear them out as long as they left his lands alone while he did so. A mutually beneficial pact for sure. Now he's gone off to hunt them down, clearing out the Eastern Islands with his fleet."
"The Eastern Islands" Jagare muttered. "Which ones are those?"
"Driftmark, Claw Isle, Sharp Point and of course, Dragonstone. All of the Lords swore to the Targaryens. And while he is dealing with them, Lord Dondarrion is plotting. He may not want the throne but make no mistake he is looking to dethrone his liege. Not for greed, but to relieve the Stormlands of Jaime, to free them from his reign. The only thing that's stopping him is that he has no one to put on that throne, and he would never seek to crown himself." Jagare paused in his step and glanced at him.
"Let me guess, you want to support him. For the good of the realm?" Cam chuckled, scratching his head.
"You remembered…well, yes, I suppose. Not support but, help him somehow. Get on his good side when he takes the crown eventually."
"I thought he didn't want it." Cam smirked slyly, pulling a coin from his pouch and letting it flow across his fingers skillfully.
"Someone will have to convince him to abandon his morals, perhaps a young bride that I and some others may have convinced that he would be the best bet for the Stormlands." Jagare couldn't help but chuckle, leaning back against the railing.
"You are a smart one, Camerlron the Fierce. But who says he will even take the crown; he may be defeated, and we have thrown our lot in with a disgraced lord." Cam held his hands up and nodded.
"It's risky I know, just think about it okay? From what I hear Lord Maximus is a good man, he would help us if we helped him. Possibly even if we didn't help him. I only ask you meet him before making a decision" Jagare thought for a moment then nodded.
"Very well. Thank you for the information, It has been useful." Cam nodded and walked away, leaving Jagare standing on the deck, the wind cooling his face pleasantly. He took a deep sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. It had grown long now, much longer since Winterfell. He hadn't cut it since then and it fell down his neck onto his shoulders. He didn't know why, but he thought about the North. Not about his false father, Jon Stark, the hatred, and unbending stubbornness of the lords; no, he thought about the good parts. The maiden snow that covered the plains and hills after a blizzard. The peaceful tranquility of the woods and the singing of the birds. Crystal streams and waterfalls running through the forest, and the smell of burning wood smoke in the brisk air. He thought of Connie, Benjen and Daryn, even Rambo, the madman that he was. He could only imagine what they would say if they saw him now. They'd laugh at him most like, getting caught up in southern schemes. 'Maybe you will find out' a small voice called in his head. They were headed to Gulltown, it would not be too outrageous to truly go north to White Harbour. Connie would smuggle them in happily and could tell them the stories from the land. It would just be like old times. "But the danger…" he muttered to himself. "Too much risk."
"What's too much risk?" came a voice. He felt his heart lurch and jumped away from the wall, only to find Faythe standing there innocently. "Is there a risk?"
"There's a risk of me smacking you off the ship if you creep up on me again" he growled. "And it's nothing, grown-up stuff." Faythe glared at him and folded her arms.
"You know I'm only a couple of years younger than you right? So, what's the risk?" Jagare paused for a moment before speaking.
"Part of me wants to go back to the North, undercover." Her face morphed into a confused frown.
"But I thought you hated the North. That it treated you and Lya like shit." He shook his head, placing his hand on the wood and sighing heavily.
"That was the people. The North itself, what it represents… it's my home, and home is not shaken off easily."
"And what does Lyanna think?" Jagare nodded grimly.
"She suffered almost worse than I did there, I wouldn't put her through going back unless she really wanted to. And of course, the children…"
"But wouldn't you want them to experience their parent's homeland?" She cocked her head. "I mean how much danger can they be in? The Starks won't be able to monitor every ship that sails near their waters."
"It's not just us though" Jagare replied coolly. "If I was discovered in White Harbour, Jon Stark would accuse Lord Manderly of aiding us." Despite the dour topic he smiled. "Connie would never submit, so it would be war. Lord Bolton would rebel instantly, none could stop him. Then the Karstark's by alliance, and with them the Hornwoods. The Umber's could never stay neutral and they'd rather Karstark than Stark, so that's them as well. Glovers, Mormonts, Dustins and Ryswells will back the Starks immediately, more likely than not the Cerwyns, Reeds and Flint's will join them. And then and then until the entire North is at war. Then it doesn't matter who wins, because everyone will die." Faythe stared at him open-mouthed.
"Too much risk huh." Jagare nodded solemnly, but Faythe surprisingly laughed and shook her head.
"You're overthinking it massively Jagare. One little act doesn't end in war, there are many things that could happen in between. Peace talks, bargains struck, deals made. The Ironborn war happened because of the rising tensions for over one hundred years and many different occurrences of the Greyjoys being cunts. All it took was the fall of House Hoare to kick it off." Jagare raised an eyebrow.
"Quite the political mind." She suddenly looked nervous and ashamed looking down at the floor.
"I-I'm sorry if I overstepped."
"No, don't be. You told me the straight truth. I need that, need it more than most." He smiled warmly at her. "Thank you, Faythe. This has helped." She grinned sheepishly.
"Pleasure captain. Always happy to help. Oh, and remember. You have four hundred men sworn to protect your family, no one is getting near them." As she left Jagare breathed in deep through the nose and exhaled. She was right. They were strong, very strong, and tested. He made his way to the wheel and relieved the sailor on duty. As he gazed into the glistening blue water, the sense of freedom they had sought for so long hit him again. The fucking lords of Westeros were nothing. There was no point in freedom if he was living in fear. A seagull squawked overhead and Jagare waited for the cry that usually followed. And sure enough…
"LAND HO!" came a shout from the crow's nest. Jagare smirked as the faint darkness of land appeared in the distance.
"Hello Lord Maximus" he grinned. "You have no fucking idea what's coming your way."
"Talking to yourself is the first sign of madness you know." Lyanna grinned as she joined him at the wheel. Jagare grinned broadly at her, kissing her full and long.
"How would you like to go to White Harbour after this?" Lyanna was silent for a few moments before smiling.
So the decision to make the children age up faster I know is an odd one, and for some it might be really annoying story-writing wise, but It's what I have chosen to do with the story and the results are on me.
Nevertheless, hope you enjoyed and feel free to comment!