Sorry for the massive wait guys, had to take a quick break from writing the past month or so, everything got very stressful.
Last chapter though, so strap in and enjoy. Here we go!
One thing about the colossal Valyrian castle that Jagare was thankful for, was its ability to completely suck in all semblance of light into its pitch black walls. The night sky was completely clouded, with not a sliver of moonlight to give them away. The air was damp and dreary, with a chilly breeze sweeping up the mountainside. The air was plagued with the smell of brimstone and sulfur, due to the active volcano that loomed above the castle. The island was a jagged rock of stone and sand, with wet beaches that stretched all around the island and then a collection of mountains making up the rest of it. Though not particularly fertile, the fish around the island were plentiful and provided their lifestyle, alongside the sale of dragonglass from inside the mountain. The castle of Dragonstone was a masterpiece by the likes of which he had never seen. Built using Valyrian sorcery by the dragonlords hundreds of years ago, the dark black stone was wreathed with statues of dragons, wyverns, griffins, manticores and all other sorts of beasts. It's high and narrow walls were joined by close towers, and the entire fortress backed into the volcano, leaving only one clear entrance. The castle would certainly be difficult to take, with multiple towers needing taking before reaching the main keep, the Stone Drum. He had only read about the Valyrian citadel a couple of times, but the mere thought of it amazed him. When the Dragonlords planned their assault on Westeros, they flew over the entire continent and mapped it out on a great wooden table inside the keep. Fifty feet long and detailed with all different land features and settlements, it was truly a marvel he wished to see with his own eyes.
But that would have to wait until they took the castle, a task that would not be the easiest. The fortress was built for resisting siege, and typically the only way to attack was through the front gate, where the Durrandons were preparing to attack. However, Lord Connington had been sending scouts around the entire island, and they had found a secluded valley on the western side of the castle. There was a path that could hold three men abreast, and it led to a small strip of gravelly rock, which met the imposing black stone of the castle. Cragg had foreseen difficulties in marching the men so compactly, but the force of Hades Tears had simply pulled their glaives and shields in tighter and marched silently along the path. He had given Rhys the grey explosive powder and was waiting behind the rocks with Lyanna and Tommo, holding till they received the signal. He had approached Lyanna earlier, attempting to convince her to stay on the ship, with the babes. It had only taken a murderous look for him to hold up his hands in defeat. He had debated telling her his secret plan, but decided against it. It couldn't be left down to debate, not with the little time they had left. Only Rhys knew, and he hadn't said a word. Cragg, Aeron and Lemnos were with their Ironborn forces, the secondary wave of attackers into the castle. They had been harder to convince when it came to marching up the narrow path, it reminded him just how fickle the Ironborn could be. Somehow no one had fallen off the cliffs yet, but if they did not attack soon the men were sure to get restless. Nevertheless, they waited for the signal patiently and in silence.
"It doesn't seem right" mumbled Tommo, whose attempts to sharpen his sword had slowed and weakened as he fell deeper and deeper into thought.
"What's not," asked Jagare sharply, looking up from his silent prayer.
"The Targaryen forces…they aren't our enemies. They just want to defend their home." Tommo's voice was hollow as if he was experiencing post-battle shock before the battle had even begun.
"They're not exactly our friends either" muttered Jagare quietly, flexing his fingers around the axe handle tucked into his belt. "Don't forget, they did try to conquer Westeros with dragons. Burnt several armies and ended the Hoare dynasty. They would have come for us if...well you know what happened."
"Can't blame them for that really" mumbled Lyanna, to which he had to agree.
"Still, they were foreign invaders. Hells they tried to take away the crowns of every kingdom, force the entire continent into subjugation. For what? To put themselves on the apex of an existing system and fuck up our politics indefinitely.
"Aye, and they failed" grunted Tommo. "They lost. They died. And yet we're still hunting them. Why not just let them live in peace?"
"There are rumours of dragon eggs in the vaults of Dragonstone" Wendel murmered, eyes opening from prayer. "Should they hatch once more..."
"And if they find out what we did" Jagare murmered. "What the North did."
"They're neither our enemies nor friends" interrupted Lyanna bluntly. "This is a job, so let's get it done." Wendel nodded dully.
"It's just a job. We take our reward. We leave." He glanced at Tommo's pale face. "End of." Tommo shifted uncomfortably.
"Yes but-" He was interrupted by a cheer coming from the south side of the island, a cry of war, and the boom of a battering ram. Jagare stood straight up quickly and let out a short breath.
"That's the signal. Tommo?" He looked at his friend for a moment, unsure of his next action, but Tommo sighed, and picked up the torch next to him, lighting it with the flint.
"Let's just get it done" he muttered and threw the torch at the wall. It briefly illuminated the form of Rhys, leaning against the wall with silent contemplation. Then the torch hit the floor, and his shadow sprang into action. A flame appeared in his hands and his back turned to them. The next thing he knew, there was a deafening sound, like ten towers hitting the floor at the same time. He ducked behind the rock and felt a heat rush over his head for a second before it went. Looking up in quiet shock, his ears still ringing, he gazed in awe at the gaping hole in the castle wall, the stones around it still creaking and breaking away. Rhys stood in the opening, drawing his sword and standing ready as guards started crying and running to the noise.
"Fuck me" whispered Lyanna. "That's some powerful shit." Jagare took her hand in his and squeezed it tight.
"See you on the other side" he murmured, then kissed her hand. Unslinging his longaxe, he thrust it into the air. "CHARGE!" he screamed and ran into the breach. He saw Tommo and Lyanna running alongside him, one with bow and one with blade. Behind him, he heard the war cry of his zealous soldiers, a blood-curdling wail that resonated through the black stone and made him shiver even with the heat of his armour. The first Targaryen soldier he came against was an aging man with a pot belly. He must have been deaf as his spear lay abandoned on the floor as he warmed his hands at a brazier. He saw the man's eyes flicker too him, and Jagare hoped he would simply surrender then, but the man lunged for his spear instead. It was almost too easy for Jagare to cleave through his skull with the longaxe. Moments later a more alert guard rushed him with a cry, his sword swinging down towards Jagare's chest. But he parried it with the handle and spun the axe across the floor to trip him, not giving a second before burying the axe in his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw arrows flying at archers on the battlements, and Tommo's blade slashing through a knight in lobster-plated armour. The Hades Tears soldiers spilt into the breach, and as planned started taking the battlements. Within minutes, the entire western wall had been taken. By that time, the Ironborn forces had entered the fray in force, and he saw Aeron's Valyrian blade cutting through soldiers by the dozen. Lots of manic fighting, no one would see him leave. 'It was time' he thought.
"TAKE THE WALLS, SHOW THEM OUR STEEL!" Just as planned, Cragg lead most of the Ironborn towards the main gate, their goal clear set. He had wanted more…blood-lusted soldiers to take the walls, leaving the far more focused cultists to take the keep, ensuring there would be no stopping for looting and raping. And then it was time. Time to put his plan into effect. He grabbed Lyanna, Rhys, and Aeron, and then ordered Tommo to continue to lead the troops into the castle, securing every room and hall they found. He remembered what Wendel had told him about the layout of Dragonstone. Jagare had left him with the reserve force, treating the wounded and sending soldiers where needed. His voice fluttered into Jagare's brain, telling him where to go, which tower to aim for. They raced through the castle, finding almost no soldiers, only terrified servants and maids. He didn't stop to answer questions from Lyanna and Aeron, not until they reached a large wooden door, which was secured with planks of wood and bolts of steel.
"I've got it" grunted Rhys, and he unslung a hand axe from his robes, then chopped ferociously at the wood.
"What the fuck are we doing here then" panted Aeron, his face glistening with sweat and his eye shining with exhilaration.
"Putting our eggs in different baskets" muttered Jagare as he swung at the other plank of wood, leaving a sizeable divot. "Sounds strange, but it was Maximus's eyes that gave me this idea." It was only Aeron who understood, his eyes widening.
"Purple eyes…" Jagare nodded, ignoring Lyanna's and Tommo's confused faces.
"Even though most of them are dead…" there was a large crack as the wood broke and the door swung open. "Don't underestimate a Targaryen." Both Aeron and Lyanna shot arrows at incoming guards, but a dozen more were coming for them, fully armoured in smoky black steel plate. They were on the right track then. Two more arrows fired, and Jagare took on two of the guards running at them at once, roaring as he whirled the longaxe with intense strength. His first blow cut through the man's sword like it was glass, slicing through his thigh plate and sending him to the ground. The next he parried a heavy blow with a morningstar, dropping his longaxe to pull out his smaller one. Bringing his shield down hard on his hand, the solider dropped his weapon, allowing Jagare to swing his axe into the mans neck with such force it cracked the gorget in half. But when he looked up, he froze at the sight of Rhys tearing through their ranks. He fought like a demon, his staff in one hand and his jagged black sword in the other. His stabs and parries were seemingly invisible at the speed he moved, and his blade so sharp and precise that he sliced through the plate and mail like it was paper. Within a few more seconds they all lay dead around him. Lyanna pulled an arrow from a guard's head and whistled.
"Good fucking choice my love" she murmured, and Jagare grinned nervously. Rhys stabbed a groaning soldier in the back and then sheathed his sword.
"Where too next captain." Jagare looked around the room they were in. Dim and cold, it was made of volcanic rock, with a small staircase leading to a throne of dragonglass. Black tinted windows allowed little light in, but the room boomed of power and authority.
"We're close" he muttered.
"Close to what exactly" Tommo panted; his eyes suspicious. Jagare glared at Aeron, ignoring the pleading looks. He turned to walk through the hall, climbing a winding staircase until they reached a torchlit corridor where a single guard stood waiting. Calling him a guard would have been a kindness, however, for he was nothing more than a dirty, blonde youth, no more than three and ten. He held a sword that caught Jagare's eye and hitched his breath. A flaming gold pommel with a matching hilt was encrusted with a large ruby, set just beneath the start of a Valyrian Steel blade.
"S-stay back" the boy sputtered, doing his best to sound strong and fearless. "I-I'll kill you, t-try me if you think I won't."
"Jagare…" murmured Lyanna. "What's going on?"
"Lad" spoke Jagare smoothly. "Calm down, please."
"NO!" the boy growled, brandishing his weapon. "Dark Sister will cut through you all! Your puny steel armour will be torn to shreds!"
"Oh, will it now" Aeron smirked, drawing his cutlass slowly. "This here is Slicer, just as deadly as your blade I can assure you." Jagare saw the small bit of hope in the child's eyes fade as he saw the Valyrian Steel. With a whimper, he opened the door behind him and ran inside. A cry went up from another part of the castle, and a roar filled the air. In the quiet of the hallway, they all heard a faint cry from the gate.
"DRAGONSPAWN!" came a yell, weak on the wind, yet very audible.
"Best we get this done quickly then" Jagare muttered, moving towards the door.
"Get what done?" asked Lyanna impatiently. "You have to tell us Jagare you can't just leave us in the dark!"
"I agree with her Jagare" Tommo demanded. "What's up with the child, dragon, knight...thing. Why are we here?" Jagare sighed and his expression softened, looking at Aeron and Rhys, both aware already.
"Just…look for yourself." He pushed open the door and stepped into the room. A long wooden table carved in the exact shape of Westeros stood firm in the centre, pieces of armies scattered around the realms. Two braziers blew fiercely in the breeze coming from the open balcony and standing before the painted table were three figures. Children by the looks of them, but all Jagare could make out was the piercing purple eyes. Jagare turned round to look at his companions.
"That's why." Rhys's face stayed still and emotionless, except for a small twitch of his mouth that he was sure was a smile. Aeron stood silent, unreactive. Lyanna was still confused, but Tommo's expression was that of dawning comprehension.
"Ohhhhhh…so you want to-"
"Yes," Jagare muttered, his eyes meeting the eldest of the three children, whose purple eyes bore into him like red hot iron daggers. "But first, let's see if it's even a possibility." He took a step forward and immediately the boy at the front swung up a lengthy sword.
"Come one step closer and I will gut you like the pig you are, stag cunt." Jagare blinked and heard a stifled snigger from Lyanna. "I'm not joking fuckers!" he yelled. "My cousin may not yet be a brave warrior, but I am old enough and strong enough to kill you all, just be grateful it's by blade and not fire!"
"Oh, you want fire?" Rhys asked bluntly, snapping his fingers, and causing a flame to appear, that soon turned black. The childrens eyes widened, the youngest letting out a high pitched gulp. "My fire doesn't like you Valyrians, you see it knows. Knows how you betrayed us" he growled softly. But Jagare placed a hand on Rhys's chest and shook his head.
"No, we're not here to fight. We're here to make peace."
"You say that as you're invading my castle" wailed the boy. "Killing my men!"
"This is war" Tommo grunted. "Men die in war." An old Northern saying.
"I'm sure your guards fought bravely" Aeron murmered softly.
"Bravely" spat the figure. "They would have been slaughtered from behind more like. I was watching from the tower; your men took out our western wall." His voice faltered slightly, maybe a sob. "All of my men, ALL of them…they were all facing south. They wouldn't have seen a thing…" his voice cracked finally, and he sniffed. "Why haven't you chained us already. You're clearly not the stag king, and you don't seem to wear his colours either. Who are you?" Jagare bent down slowly and placed the axe on the ground, then signalled for Lyanna and Aeron to lower their bows.
"My name is Jagare Snowstorm. I'm a captain from the North. I'm a merchant mostly, but if a suitable deal comes to the table-" The elder figure spat onto the floor.
"A sellsail if I ever heard it. Stag King couldn't beat us himself, so he had to find northern bastards to do his dirty work." He heard Lyanna hiss behind him but held up his hand.
"Yes, I may be a bastard, but I am a bastard who wants to help you." He saw the sword drop by an inch.
"H-help us how?" came the sniffling voice of another figure, the boy who guarded the door.
"I want to help you escape the Durrandons. And I have a plan to do so." Lyanna's breathed hitched but he turned to her with pleading eyes, and she stayed silent.
"How can we trust you?" came the elder voice, fierce and smooth.
"Because if you don't" Aeron spoke calmly. "Then Durrandon men will find you and slaughter you on the spot, or if you're unlucky, they'll take you to King Jaime, and he will kill you."
"Please" begged Jagare, suddenly. "If you come with us, there is a secret passage through our breach that leads down to the town. One of my men has identified a man willing too take you, a Seberax Kempe?" He knew that did the job. All of them gasped, both sword points hitting the ground. "Gather what followers you wish and sail west from the island. If you fly grey sails, the ships in those waters will let you through, I swear." He took another step forward. "You can start a new life, in Essos maybe. I'll even give you some gold to get on your way." There was a silence in the room, broken only by Rhys's grunt.
"I would take the offer, little dragons. For another will not come your way."
"Why do you want to help us?" came a sweeter, higher voice. A girl.
"Because" started Jagare. "A son should not pay for the sins of his father, and I do not condone the murder of children."
"Bullshit" muttered the eldest. "You sell your swords and ships. What do you gain from this?"
"A sound moral compass" muttered Jagare, glancing at Lyanna and Tommo, whose gazes softened slightly. "And for other reasons of my own." Another crash echoed through the halls. "But I would hurry up in your decision-making. Time is running short."
"I think we should go" mumbled the girl, who stepped into the light. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, with silver curly hair and a soft pale face. A true Valyrian beauty. She held a dagger loosely at her side and pulled the others into the light.
"Sister…we cannot trust them" spoke the eldest, now shown to be around one and six at most. He had similar looks to her, except his hair was short and slicked back, and his face sharper and eyes more tired.
"What choice do we have" she hissed back at him. "You know as well as I, we're dead if we stay…" Her brother looked at her pleadingly.
"But mother said…never abandon our home…" there were tears forming. While Jagare and Lyanna may have been forced out of a home they hated, these children were being forced out of a home they loved. A home they had defended to the last man.
"S-she would have w-wanted us to live through…w-wouldn't she?" echoed the younger boy's voice. "We should go. It's our only chance." It was Aeron who spoke up next, his voice quiet and somber.
"I lost my home to invaders as well" he murmered. "Fought a war for twenty years for it, and we were pushed back to our home keep. It was taken from me."
"Harlaw...?" the eldest spoke, his eyes widening. Aeron nodded.
"I'm sure you would have heard about it. I only survived because one of the Greyjoy conscripts decided to save me, when the safer option would have been to hand me over to the queen. He would have been rewarded with gold, hon ours, ships, even a keep. But he saved me. And so here I stand." Aeron turned and pointed at Jagare. "That man was him. He saved me from certain torture and death. For no reason but because it was the right thing to do." It was only then the eldest lowered his sword, also made of Valyrian Steel. Longer and wider than the other, it had a large ruby in the pommel and its hilt was wrought with twin dragon mouths. He let out a sigh and squared his shoulders, bringing himself to full height.
"Very well, Jagare Snowstorm. For better or worse, my family's lives are in your hands." Jagare smiled faintly.
"Thank you…you have made the right choice. May I know your name?" The boy eyed him warily and then responded.
"Jaehaerys Targaryen. My sister Alyssa and my cousin Aemon." He nodded behind Jagare. "And your friends."
"Aeron Harlaw, at your service" spoke Aeron, with a friendly smile. "Over there is Tommo, the big scary fire man is Rhys, and the lovely lady here is-"
"Lyanna" she spoke softly. "Lyanna Snowstorm. It's okay. Your safe now." Another boom sounded through the castle and Jagare winced, turning around.
"Tommo, Aeron, Rhys, get them to the cove. Grab some Hades's soldiers who can keep their mouths shut. Show them the path to the village, if you run into some Durrandon soldiers...you know what to do." All nodded at his orders, so he turned back to the Targaryens. "The King will have left the village with a skeleton defence, should be enough for you to sneak past. And remember, sail west in a wide arc." Another, louder boom. "Now go!" The eldest gave him one last look of distrust before moving.
"Come on. Better than sitting here to die." The three of them moved forward, after Rhys who had already left.
"Make sure they get there safe Aeron" spoke Jagare softly. Aeron nodded, a silent understanding between the two of them, deeper than usual. Aeron knew. Then it was just him and Lyanna, and an awkward silence filled the room.
"You do love your secrets, don't you?" she muttered. Leaning against Dorne and fiddling with the raised part of the table that represented the Red Mountains.
"I'm sorry" Jagare sighed. "I didn't tell anyone, only the captains to let them know a ship was going to come past...and Rhys may have figured it out."
"Why not though" she growled. "Why not me."
"Because" Jagare mumbled. "If anything happened, it would be my sole responsibility. I would plead guilty and you having no knowledge of the plot might save you." She whipped around, her face morphing into a scowl
"Save me! As if that would save me. You know what lords and kings are like!"
"Yes, but it's a better chance than nothing" he growled.
"Why would you even attempt this, in the depth of our enemies armies?!" He pulled away with a growl and stalked up the table, coming to a set of raised islands off the coast of the western coast of the map.
"We did the same for Aeron, and now I think him a loyal man, a brilliant commander, and a brother. It worked the first time, why not another."
"The first time was with a bloody Harlaw" she hissed, coming round the eastern side of the table into The Bite and looking him dead in the eye. "This is a fucking Targaryen!"
"Look…" he moved forward and took her hands, resting on where Moat Cailin would have been. "I promise. In fact, I swear. No more secrets." He kissed her hand. "By our children, I swear, you shall know everything from hereon-out. Okay?" They both stayed silent, until Lyanna looked North to their homeland.
"Secrets are what got us here in the first place Jagare...when is a secret going to get us killed?" Before he could answer, the door burst open. An Ironborn warrior stepped through, only for a sword to be plunged through his stomach with a soft squelch. The man let out a soft 'oh' before falling, revealing a tall man dressed in nothing but a tunic, breeches and wielding a sword.
"WHERE ARE THEY!" he screamed ferociously. "WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN." Jagare was about to reason with him, but Lyanna nudged him and pointed behind him, down the corridor. At the very end, he saw reflected in the torchlight, a golden set of armour coming towards them. Durrandon men.
"I'm sorry" Jagare mumbled, his mind already set. He picked up his axe and readied his stance. "You just missed them." The man screamed once more and charged. Jagare unslung his shield and saw Lyanna draw her shortsword. The duel was short and sweet, as the man had already taken some wounds. Jagare kept his parries busy while Lyanna peppered him with slashes until finally, she hit his sword hand and severed half of his fingers, causing the man to yell and stumble. Jagare twirled the axe and cut him near in half through the stomach. He fell with a crash, letting out his final breath bleeding next to one of the braziers. Then, a slow clap filled the room as they both whipped around to look at the door. A man stood in the doorway, black and gold-plated armour glistening in the torchlight, a long golden black cloak flowing behind him. In one hand he held an oak wood shield, adorned with gold and iron. In the other was a mighty warhammer, engraved with stags and runes. The man wore a golden warrior's crown amongst a flowing mane of jet-black hair, along with a neatly trimmed beard. But his eyes, the piercing blue. Stronger than Terran's and brighter than Faythe's, the most dazzling eyes he had ever seen.
"King Durrandon, I assume" Jagare spoke coolly, lowering his axe to lean on and slinging his shield behind his back. "I do hope my men opened the gate in good time." The man let out a hearty laugh and beat his hammer against the floor.
"They most certainly did! And that must make you the mysterious sea captain my Lord of Griffins hired for the job. Well, I must say, I am most certainly impressed! Your men fought bravely alongside mine to kill those Essosi bastards." He scrunched up his face slightly. "Not nearly as well trained, nor well armoured. But, brave nonetheless." He let his hammer drag against the ground and walked a few paces forward, looking Jagare in the eye while his expression turned serious. "You haven't seen the Dragonspawn, by any chance, have you. I was told they were running around up here." His voice was low and cool. Not accusing, but not friendly either.
"Came up here looking for them" he responded and shrugged. "Found nothing but this one." He nudged the dead soldier with his toe, and the king suddenly seemed to notice him again.
"Ah yes, the castle's captain of the guard I believe. He proved most persistent in the defence of our siege until tonight. I congratulate you on his death." His eyes then flickered to Lyanna and his gaze turned lustrous, and a grin appeared. "And what have we here then" he leered at Lyanna, who stared back sharply.
"Lyanna Snowstorm, your grace."
"Ah!" the king exclaimed. "Your wife then. How…romantic. Fighting side by side." He looked at Jagare curiously. "Strange though, I wouldn't trust a woman to have my back in a fight, only in the bedroom!" He boomed a laugh. "That's where they do best of course!" Jagare saw Lyanna's look darken and her hand grip her blade tightly. Luckily before anyone could say or do anything, a number of guards burst into the room, followed by a furious-looking Petyr Connington.
"Your Grace" he ground out through his teeth as the guards bowed. "The Dragonspawn cannot be found. They have-"
"ESCAPED!" roared the Durrandon king. "WHO LET THEM, I'LL HAVE HIS HEAD!" He whipped to Jagare who held up his hands.
"My men secured the breach right away your grace, no one could have gotten through. And my most trusted man has searched every room with utter efficiency, I swear to you." Another good thing about the Hades Tears, they wouldn't have batted an eye at the children with Rhys by their side, and they knew to keep their mouths shut.
"Well!" roared the king, turning to Lord Connington. "Did his men prove effective?" The lord eyed Jagare for a few seconds, enough to make him feel uneasy at how much the Griffin Lord knew.
"It's true" growled Lord Connington. "His men secured everything, so much so that relieving them of their duty was quite the task." It seemed to fool the king, his eyes losing some of their murderous rage as he nodded in agreement. "It seems they slipped out another way, maybe before we even breached."
"Or straight after more like" mused King Durrandon. "Dragonspawn are cowards by nature of course. Yes! Of course. They ran like the dogs they really are." He looked at his right-hand man expectantly. "Well, FIND THEM!" he boomed. "GET FUCKING LOOKING." Lord Connington bowed and hurriedly left the room.
"Your grace…" Jagare asked, watching the king think for a few moments.
"I'll find them" he growled. "And I'll have their heads, oh I swear I will." He turned to Jagare and chuckled. "Your men would scare them off with their smell, so don't worry, not your job. For now, you have your men confined to the docks and the village. Don't want them mixing with my pure bread soldiers." He grimaced at Jagare, whose anger was simmering. "Those Essosi types make for good fodder, but true Westeros men shall feast here tonight, not brown coloured shits. You're invited of course, and your lovely wife." Jagare's hand twitched towards his knife, but Lyanna grabbed his arm. Luckily the king didn't notice and huffed out of the room, spitting on the dead man as he passed.
"Fucking hell" Lyanna murmured as he left. "Maximus wasn't wrong. Can you imagine Aimee with him?"
"She could have killed a thousand innocents and not deserved that fate" he replied bluntly. "Fucking hell. What have I got us into Lya?" But she shook her head and took his face in her hands.
"Think of what he would have done to them. You did the right thing, okay?" He nodded and she kissed him. When she pulled away, they both smiled lovingly. She really did make it all okay in the end.
"You aren't angry about me rescuing them?" She shook her head with a small smile.
"Of course not. Otherwise, you would not be the man I fell in love with. Just…no more secrets."
"Never again my love." Their kissed once more, and it deepened. Jagare felt his blood stirring and at one point they had both looked towards the table with the same thought.
"I think we should get back to the ship" he decided finally, to which she readily agreed. After they had returned and…consummated their victory, the rest of the night passed quickly. They had no intention of going to the feast, so Jagare reunited with his friends who luckily all had made it. They had lost almost a hundred of Hades Tears and less than fifty Ironborn. Hard losses, all of them. But they died in glorious battle according to Rhys and Aeron alike. All of the Ironborn were weighted down with rocks and sunk to the bottom of the sea, a true burial for their religion. The Hades Tears warriors were all burned, but before, a single coin was placed under their tongue. When he asked Rhys what it was, he simply replied 'for the ferrymen'. He didn't think he would ever understand their religion.
"We won a great battle today" Jagare murmured as he was rocking Alys and Alaric before they retired. Lyanna was already asleep, while he had struggled to rest with his thoughts on the Targaryens. "Our men fought bravely, and our shields held strong. But the most important thing…we made friends with our enemies, and protected them when they were weak. That is what is important, and that is what you must remember when you grow up to be leaders yourselves. It's the duty of the strong to protect the weak. Never forget that my loves." They didn't respond, but Alaric's eye opened, grey orbs shining up at Jagare. He didn't know how, but Alaric heard him.
"Go to sleep my love" Lyanna murmered. So he put the babes down in their cribs and climbed into bed, pulling Lyanna close to him and letting his mind drift into sleep with her scent all around him. The next morning, Jagare had been visiting the injured to boost their moral when a Durrandon messenger had arrived at the ship. He had been called for a council meeting and so at midday strode back into the room with the painted table for a council. He took no one but Cragg, Merri, Brik and Lemnos, soldiers who would keep their mouths shut indefinitely. The air was chilly in the room when he entered, but even colder was the Storm King's demeanor. He could tell that one wrong word in front of the king, could result in a swift death at the hands of his legendary hammer, Stormbreaker. The council was made up of Stormlords, with a few from the Riverlands as well. He recognised the sigils of Lord Buckler, Lord Fell and Lord Cafferen, as well as Lord Staunton and Buckwell. The king sat atop a raised chair near the Island of Dragonstone, sipping a cup of wine he looked carefully over the land around the island as the mutters of his lords echoed around him. Jagare took a spot near Karhold, where not many lords stood, and kept quiet until eventually, the king spoke.
"Where are they?" he spoke softly, with little of the rage from the day before. Jagare was sure it was a farce though, his true rage hot and heavy. Many of the lords stayed quiet until one with quartered suns and crescents spoke on his tunic spoke.
"Our men have searched the entire castle; it is impossible they are still here. They must have escaped onto the island."
"Lord Tarth speaks truthfully" murmured an older man with gaunt, grey features. "They are on the island or have found a ship and escaped.
"Is it even possible they could sail away?" asked a young Lord Estermont. "Our blockade would have stopped any ships."
"They could have sailed for the mainland" proposed Lord Fell. "Maybe to Crackclaw Point, and onto Claw Isle?"
"Impossible, they would be fools" stated Lord Connington. "Lord's Massey and Cafferon control all south of Blackwater Bay. From Rosby to Rook's Rest, Maia Whent holds sway, and she is our ally in this outing of the Valyrians."
"And the Clawmen hold no love for Targaryens I assure you" a man with a guttural voice spoke up, his cloak and clothes dirty with muck.
"The only ships that have left this island have been searched thoroughly by my own men" another lord spoke haughtily. "To assume they escaped would be an insult to me personally!"
"No one is insulting you Lord Massey" growled Lord Connington. "But there was one other ship that sailed. Less than a day ago." There was silence in the room as all heads turned to the man. "We were still fighting and most of our men were here, hence we missed it. But a few of my spies in the town said it had raised sail and left swiftly during the end of the battle.
"B-but how did it miss our blockade!" sputtered Lord Tarth, who Jagare learned had been placed in charge of the ships.
"Muffled oars, black sails, experienced smugglers, lazy fucking watchmen, pick your poison it doesn't matter. What matters is that they found a way past a very large army and set sail under our very noses." The Lord of Griffins thought for a moment, tracing his hand around Dragonstone. "Our blockade cannot have been trusted so they could have gone anywhere."
"How do we know they were even on the ship," Jagare asked quietly. It was a risk to bring attention to himself, but he had to plant the seeds, otherwise, the game would be up before they ever set sail.
"What do you mean Snowstorm" replied Lord Connington sharply. Jagare shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of the Stormlords but continued.
"Many towns and cities under siege are desperate to get ships out as soon as possible. Mayhaps it was just some desperate men attempting to get some fish for their families before you bought true order to the island. Or mayhaps a trading vessel trying to bring back wares before his ship was regulated." He shrugged. "They could still be on the island. Just a thought." It turned out that many in the room had not even noticed his presence, and were now looking at him with disgust.
"Who…who is this man, and why does he speak in the same room as us?!" demanded Lord Cafferen.
"I hear he's a northern bastard sellsail" another lord younger lord responded mockingly. "But I also hear rumours...tell us who you really are, bastard." Jagare whipped his gaze round and glared at him fiercely, his voice cold and vicious, and his northern brogue furious.
"I'm the one who breached the western wall and opened the gates for your men! Without me, you would still be pulling arrows out of your arse from the fruitless attacks you would have made against the main gate. Though I suppose I should thank you my lord, for allowing me to take this assignment. For if I remember it correctly, it was your fucking incompetence with the original siege camp that allowed the enemy to sneak extra men and supplies into the castle!" The room erupted into cries of horror and outrage as the Lord's face turned a dark shade of red, and Jagare smirked slightly. It was a dangerous move but when the king started to laugh, he knew it had paid off.
"Let's keep it civil now" he chuckled. "We're all on the same side, and the man's circumstance of birth or other...ah, affiliations, do not make him any less of a warrior. And Snowstorm is right, for all we know the Dragonspawn could be hiding in that dammed volcano, our best bet is to simply wait and see while still sending out search parties." His gaze travelled over Lord Tarth with judgement. "Competent ones this time, if you would my lord." He took a final gulp from the cup and dashed it on the floor. "Alive or dead, the Targaryens are truly defeated. It may almost be better that they live. That way if they grow up and try and take back their home…" he grinned madly. "WE CAN KICK THE CUNTS STRAIGHT BACK INTO THE SEA!" The lords clamoured in approval and the king soaked it all up. "MAYBE THE DRAGON WHORE WILL BE OLDER BY THEN, AND I CAN HAVE A GOOD FUCK AS WELL." Another round of cheers. It made Jagare sick.
"It's for the best he has his fun" came the voice of Petyr Connington from his shoulder, his gaze surprisingly as disgusted as Jagare's. "Better a few japing comments now than a rash decision that costs us even more war."
"The king loves war" Jagare murmured back. "Surely you would accommodate his wishes as his right-hand man." Connington snorted softly.
"Fuck that, it's my job to make sure he keeps his crown secure; more wars do nothing but destabilize that."
"You're a smart man Lord Connington" replied Jagare.
"And don't you forget it…the king has accepted your request of payment I might add. The control over Dragontown is yours. We will also throw in a few bags of gold in return for you defending his new island against any pirates that think they can take advantage of the post-war silence." Jagare was bursting inside but kept his calm and nodded.
"The king is most gracious, and I will not fail him."
"Good. Don't fuck it up." The man looked down at the table where they were standing, and let out a throaty chuckle. "Careful Snowstorm. Your past clings to you more than you realise. And while a comment like that in the Kings company may result in praise, in many others you will be seen as nothing but an upstart bastard, and be treated as such." Jagare gazed over the table, where the lord he had insulted was talking in mutters with a couple others, glancing over in his direction.
"Let them come" Jagare growlled. Connington was silent for a moment, before leaning close to Jagare.
"Jon Stark won't give up Snow. Best keep out of his radar, before some lord decides to get in the King in the North's good books." And then he was gone, gliding over to whisper in the king's ear. As Jagare walked back from the castle, he was silent in thought, his fists clenched tight.
"Captain" Lemnos asked. "Is everything alright." It was only then that Jagare let a massive grin spread across his face.
"Dragontown is ours boys, and soon, so will the entire island." They celebrated that night on the beaches of Dragonstone. Lugging great slabs of wood for bonfires, meat was roasted on the spit and the ale and rum flowed fast and free. It was one of the only times Jagare had truly gotten drunk, and why shouldn't he. They had won a great battle and finally had land that they could call their own. The town was small to be sure, but they would bring trade to the docks once more. It was only the next morning after Jagare and Lyanna had finished the second round of pleasure in the early morning hours that Rhys had quietly informed him they were being watched the entire time from the rocks by Durrandon men.
"Watched?" Jagare growled lowly.
"Aye watched" Rhys muttered. "I'm surprised no one else realised."
"Well…we were all very…"
"Hammered, I believe is one of the Westerosi sayings." Jagare rubbed his head, slightly embarrassed.
"Where did they go after?"
"Up to the castle" he grunted. "Didn't follow them in there…Valyrian architecture has magic imbued into the stones. Difficult for me to enter...by my own means."
"Yeah, on that note, how the fuck do you do that." Rhys simply smiled and shook his head.
"Be on your guard captain, should it come down to it, I will protect the children over you." Jagare slowly emerged from behind his palms with a disgruntled expression, only for Rhys to wink with a smirk.
"What the fuck…" he muttered to himself, watching Rhys disappear out of his solar. Three days later, the King and most of his forces left the island in droves, heading back to Storms End. Jagare was less than happy to learn he had left Lord Connington as his temporary castellan until the island could truly be considered peaceful, and then he would recall him. Snowstorm and his other two ships had been moored properly in the docks after that, and it gave him great joy to look over his conquests from the hills above the town. Already they had started to replenish the town's supplies, with Wendel being key in assessing the economy. The men who still had strength helped with more physical tasks. Fishing boats had been upgraded and nets repaired. Docks had been rebuilt and inns expanded to hold more people. And he had put one of the bags of Durrandon gold straight back into the town's economy so that when the ships came, their trade stores would finally increase. They spent a moon or so on the island, living a different style of life. The Ironborn worked the docks in the day as they did on their own islands, building, carrying and fishing. The men of Hades Tears patrolled the streets and worked where they could, and his him and his inner crew established themselves as the town council, working everyday to further its development. But it was never truly going to last. Triton and Agenor had approached him one day, asking where their next destination was, and he knew that it was time. He called a meeting of all his friends in the newly refurbished town hall to discuss the future of their adventures.
"First of all," he started after everyone had gathered around the table, his voice dropping low. "How have the Targaryens progressed."
"Well, by all accounts" replied Wendel confidently. "Cam has been keeping us to date with Macaw, but we think they will reach Myr in the next quarter moon. According to the last message, they plan to go to Volantis and find some of their people, leftover from the Doom." Jagare nodded and looked to Rhys sternly.
"And they will be given food, supplies, and transport?"
"Begrudgingly" he grunted. "But yes, the priests will supply them. They will receive no great treatment like we showed you however."
"That was great treatment…" Lyanna muttered to herself, sounding very confused.
"Anyway…I plan to leave around a hundred of our men to defend the port town when we eventually set sail" Jagare continued "I appreciate it will deprive us of a great many fine warriors, but I believe it will be necessary to secure our position on the island…and I am sure we would all appreciate the extra room on the ship." There were quiet chuckles all around and he continued. "The men will be Ironborn, twenty-five from each section and volunteer first, before names are drawn."
"And why do we not leave the fire cunts here?" asked Aeron, who was picking his nails with a dagger, boots up on the table.
"Because the fire cunts follow Captain Snowstorm" grunted Rhys, who was leaning in the shadows against a pillar. His favourite place to lean. "And by follow, I mean just that, we will not stay where he is not."
"Exactly" Jagare acknowledged. "They will continue to follow but on the ships of Triton and Agenor." He motioned to the men who inclined their heads.
"Our men will fight and die for you captain, but they enlisted to do just that" Triton muttered apologetically. "Menial work is not what they were made for."
"We understand captain" Lyanna spoke comfortingly. "We'll be out on the open sea again before long."
"This leaves us, slightly undefended, however," remarked Cragg. "We lost men in the battle, and our numbers are already down. Can we afford such losses?" Jagare shifted uncomfortably and glanced at Cam, who nodded bluntly and sat up with small smile.
"There is…a solution for that" Jagare mumbled. "Sort of. You see Camerlron has been spreading our tale. Not the exact details, but a fantastical mythic version. The story of a ship crewed by the free and the broken, who reject noble rule and make their own rules, overthrowing tyrants and helping the innocent." Cam sat foreword in his chair with a grin.
"My contacts in Maidenpool, Gulltown, White Harbour, they've all been telling me of boys in taverns, praying to their gods that they could join the crew! And in the places we've already been..." Cam whistled. "We've got a small army waiting for us."
"So, you're saying you want to replace my dead men with green boys looking for adventures" growled Aeron.
"Freeing them, you mean!" exclaimed Lyanna. She looked at Aeron guiltily. "I'm sorry Aeron I don't mean to jump in their graves, but we have a chance to build our fleet and rescue trapped souls from lives they never wanted. All those forced into work on rotting ships with shitty captains."
"I agree" murmured Tommo. "I think we could and should. But they're not all going to fit on Snowstorm."
"Let me and Aeron handle that" Jagare replied with a small smirk. "I'm sure we can find some more ships if we try." Aeron rolled his eyes and let out a laugh.
"Oh, you always know how to cheer me up don't you captain. But we still have a small problem with this island." Jagare groaned inwardly. He knew this was coming.
"What problem?" asked Tommo absentmindedly. Jagare ran his fingers through his hair and leaned back, closing his eyes.
"This town is ours now. Someone has to stay and manage it." There was a silence in the room and Rhys chuckled darkly.
"Hate to break up the band huh? This ought to be good." Jagare glared at him and leaned forward again.
"I won't ask anyone who doesn't want to stay to do so. But someone needs to-"
"We will" rumbled Lemnos, who placed an arm around a nervous-looking Wendel, who'd been strangely quiet so far. "We both volunteer." The room was dead silent. Jagare looked at Wendel, who nodded ever so slightly. As if everyone had just woken up, the room was filled with clamouring as people started to argue. Jagare simply sat back and rubbed his head. He felt Lyanna's hand on his knee, and she smiled sadly at him.
"We both knew this was coming" she murmured. "And I'm no happier about it than you are, but eventually it was going to break."
"What was?" he asked. She sighed and smiled again.
"The Northern band. Me, you, Tommo, Wendel and Lemnos. The original five." They both looked up to see Tommo the most vocal of them all, practically screaming at Wendel and Lemnos to not leave.
"Ok, he's hurting my ears now" Jagare grumbled. He stood and banged his fist loudly on the table. "ENOUGH!" the chatter stopped steadily until they were all looking at him. "Thank you, now if we conduct ourselves like reasonable adults instead of squabbling children…" he gazed around the room, and everyone averted their eyes. "Now" he looked back at the pair of them. "Gives us your reasons."
"Wendel's smart" boomed Lemnos. "And I am strong." There was silence.
"…Is that it" Jagare asked, slightly confused. Lemnos groaned.
"He will keep the port running, I'll keep the soldiers and smallfolk in line." He smiled slightly, a rare thing for him. "You don't know it captain, but this has been the truth for a while."
"Do not take our absolution the wrong way Jagare, we have been planning this for some time now" muttered Wendel. "And we did not make the decision with an easy heart."
"Aye" remarked Lemnos. "We will miss all of you, very much."
"Hang on!" blurted Tommo. "Can you please stop acting like this is actually happening! Why do they have to stay!" he yelled at Jagare. "We've got hundreds of competent townsfolk who can run this place." Jagare looked painfully at Tommo. He couldn't find the words. Surprisingly it was Aeron who spoke up.
"I think we should give you guys the room" he murmured softly and motioned to the rest of them to leave. "Come on you shits, let em fight it out." They all slowly made their way from the hall, until it was just them left. The original five.
"What. The actual. Fuck" Tommo ground out, his knuckles turning white on the chair. "You…you two really think you can just leave! After everything- ah fuck! You've made up your minds as well haven't you!"
"I'm sorry Tommo" mumbled Wendel, his voice breaking slightly. "I truly am. But it needs to happen. Managing the harbour on Bear Island, and now this...it's what I'm meant for. And-and Lemnos, fuck me, is one of the most popular men in the village Jagare. They like him, they trust him!"
"Their scared of me too" Lemnos replied, looking slightly offended.
"I don't know what we would do on the ship without you Wendel" murmured Lyanna. "You as well Lemnos."
"I know lass" muttered Lemnos, softer than usual. "But you two need good, strong, trustworthy friends to hold this land. And we are those friends."
"NO! It's not right…" Tommo whimpered.
"Tommo" Lyanna pleaded, but it was no use. Jagare stepped forward, his expression dour.
"Tommo you must understand-"
"NO" he roared. "We've lied for you! Our honour has been destroyed…the deciet we've told. The trickery, the secrets. Eyme, Maximus, Camerlron, ALL YOUR FUCKING PLOTS!" He gathered himself and took a breath. "Everyone you help, everyone you betray, and everyone you kill. We- US, all of us…we have always been here. You think that we could have mutinied Azure without Lemnos? Or gotten the Targaryens away without Wendel?"
"And now it's time for us to use our skills in another way" Wendel spoke soothingly, but it was no use.
"We could send anyone though," cried Tommo. "I mean Cam! What good is he fucking doing. Aeron? He would be great at this!"
"We need both of them on the ship Tommo" Jagare spoke, trying to mask the sadness that was building inside of him as well. He had to stay strong as captain.
"And we don't need them!?" sputtered Tommo, pointing at Wendel and Lemnos. "Or maybe you don't want them" he spat. Jagare launched himself upright, his heart pounding with anger.
"You think I want to say goodbye to them!" he roared. "That I don't want them with me, with us. Wandering the North like the good old days FUCK!" He turned away with his head in his hands, drawing a long breath that nearly ended in a sob. "When did…when did it all get so…complicated?"
"When we decided that we needed to go beyond rescuing just ourselves" Wendel spoke, his voice with a serious tone. "Since you decided that you wouldn't leave the innocent and oppressed to the mercy of the cunts of Westeros. And…that's good Jagare. You should be proud. It just means sacrifices must be made."
"He's right" murmured Lyanna, who stroked Jagare's back comfortingly. "I don't want to see them go any more than you do. But they are the best choice for this…this…"
"Adventure" spoke Lemnos softly. "It's a new quest we embark upon now Jagare. And while you are gone, we will build ships for you, fight off pirates and make a fortune in your name. It's a different sort of adventure is all." He grinned a toothy grin. "We will always be with you, in here." He placed a meaty hand over his heart and Jagare felt tears welling up. Why did they have to say goodbye?!
"I'm sorry I said that Jagare" Tommo spoke quietly. "I just…you guys are my family. I-I've already seen my family split once before" he bought his head up with a few tears rolling down his cheek. "I didn't want to see it happen again." Lyanna strode across the room and pulled him into a hug.
"I know you didn't" she murmured as Tommo let out a sob. "But we shall all, always be together." She placed his hand over his chest. "In here."
"That's right" Jagare echoed. "No matter what waters we cross, what lands we travel to, and who we may become." He bought them all into a tight circle. "We…we will always be family." They stayed there for a while, simply holding each other, tears finally falling. After a while, Tommo spoke.
"Do not attempt an attack on the castle without letting us know first, okay?" Wendel nodded firmly.
"Definitely not till that armour comes" Jagare sniffed. "I'll get it too you as soon as possible."
"We'll be careful, I promise."
"How touching" came a soft whisper from the entrance. "But it seems you were not careful enough, and you shall die a family as well." They turned, to see the swish of a red and white cloak disappear into the corridor. Blood rushing through his ears, Jagare sprinted to the door, but by the time they opened it, he was already mounting a horse.
"I warned you bastard" the Griffin Lord snarled. "I warned you, and now, you shall pay the consequences." His horse let out a neigh and rose into the air, front legs kicking. Jagare could only yell into the night as the horse cantered down the street. His mind was already racing with mobilising forces, bringing out archers to shoot down ravens. But out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of yellow on the rooftop, and then the horse was riderless. A mess of black cloak soared through the air, having tackled the stunned Lord Connington from his steed. Jagare and his friends could only watch as the black figure spun on the ground and launched itself onto the man, two black blades appearing from sleeves to slice at him repeatedly. The sound of groaning gurgles filled the night, as the figure ripped him to pieces. By the time the noise had stopped, the figure was panting softly, and they simply stood there, stunned at what had just happened.
"Wha- wha…" was the only sounds Lyanna could make. Jagare was silent, frozen with shock.
"W-who are you" came Wendel, the bravest of them all apparently. The figure simply gazed at them, black as night hood covering all features. Its crouched position gave away no sign of height or gender, and if it could talk it chose not to. In a heartbeat, it had sprung away, climbing onto a rooftop, and vaulting into the darkness.
"Fuck" was all Tommo could say.
"I think we know what killed Martial" Lyanna muttered, then proceeded to throw up on the floor. Jagare had to agree. The body of Lord Connington was so mutilated, the only thing he had ever seen before as gruesome was Martial's body."
"It followed us" Lemnos gasped. "All the way from Oldtown."
"Jagare..." Wendel gasped, still in shock. "Wh...what do we do?"
"Clear the body" he eventually replied. "Put archers on full alert to shoot down any ravens that leave that castle. And if anyone asks, we have no idea where Lord Connington has gone." Lemnos and Wendel left swiftly, to find some of the Hades Tears patrolling the town. Tommo left soon after to alert the Ironborn Archers, and Lyanna hurried back to the ship to check on the babes. Then it was just Jagare, standing in front of the body as the nights chill picked up around him. He turned to look at the dazzling sky, cloudless and star-filled. He saw many faces in the stars. But it was the north star that caught his gaze, cold and cruel, faces appeared in his mind, and the wind whistled words into his ear. Jagare stared down the nights sky as the threats of Jon Stark, Terran Greyjoy, Stannis Hightower and Jaime Durrandon swum in his mind. He closed his eyes in defiance, and when he opened them, he brimmed with anger.
"One day" he muttered. "One day, I'll kill them all." He then turned, and headed through the darkness back to the looming form of Snowstorm in the harbour, its rigging singing in the breeze, and its deck filled with the the anger of four hundred men sung a thousand songs, as the clouds came to flood the stars.
Dun dun dunnnnnnn
Not really a cliffhanger ending, but hopefully a bit of a shock to the story.
That is the end of the first book (bar an epilogue of course), and I am currently in the process of writing its sequal, but I don't see myself uploading that before Christmas.
Anyways, I hope you have enjoyed this story, and If you want to read the sequal, please follow my account so you can be notified when it drops!
Thatwierdwriter signing off.