A/N: A short chapter, and one that won't have any Dany or Dagon. Sorry about that folks. It's time for something completely different.

Warning: There's some violence in this chapter, a couple depictions and descriptions.

Farwynd & Fire

By Spectre4hire

4: The Trap

"Rooms full of gold!" Bert exclaimed, "Can ya imagine it?"

Yes, I can, but he stayed quiet.

It was a cloudless night above their heads. The Bay of Pentos shone like dark glass beneath their small boat. He sat at the front of the boat, with two rowers behind him, Bill and Tom, with Bert standing behind them. It was Bert's boat, but it was his words that had netted this small crew.

These were the names given to him by Naero. Allies, who he'd use against his captain. We mustn't have that.

"Are we close, Reek?"

"Very," he assured them. It had been easy to earn their trust. The mention of Naero had invited him into the fold. The whispers of his capture and death had yet to drift far past the captain's manse. Leaving them unaware that they're sitting with his killer. He savored their ignorance. His skin prickled with the rush of his thoughts, on what was truly awaiting them. Before sunrise, they'll be dead. "There," he pointed to where the manse could be seen resting on a small hill. That simple gesture was a spark for the others, chattering excitedly about the gold and gems that would soon be theirs.

He didn't join in. He was content to listen, enjoying the hold he had over them. He licked his lips, feeling the anticipation build in his belly. They thought he was leading them to a successful mark. To make them all rich, but the truth was so much sweeter.

Their attention wasn't on him, not noticing when he sat back down or when he leaned to the side of the boat. If they had, they may have seen the flash of steel, when he withdrew his thin knife from its sheath before he put his back to them. The tip of the knife pricked his finger, but he felt no pain. A thin rivulet of red emerged from the cut which was when he dipped his hand into the water.

He watched the rippling disturbance that he left in its wake.

Come to me, he prayed, knowing she'd catch his scent, follow his meager blood trail better than any of the hounds his lord father kept and bred at the Dreadfort. Excitement welled up inside him. He was about to bear witness to her. He had seen his Captain's menagerie, but she was Ramsay's favorite. She was not the biggest nor the fastest, but to him, she was the perfect vessel of death.

His lips moved in a silent prayer, calling out to the Drowned God. The One who cleansed him of his old life, his old ways, his old wants. Ramsay was shown that this was where he belonged. My brother can have the Dreadfort, and his horse face betrothed. He now sneered at a mere speck in the snow covered north that he once thought was his to have. At how he once thought how powerful it would make him. I've seen true power, I serve it.

Captain Dagon showed him the truth. The seas and ports were my new home, better and greater than any single castle. He was blind at first, recalling those early days filled him with shame. Even as a bastard he thought himself better than a second son of some minor ironborn lord. Until he saw it, that act of awe which made him a believer. I've followed the Drowned God and my captain faithfully ever since.

"If Naero is right about this gold," Tom said, "we should've gotten a bigger boat."

Bert and Bill snickered. Their dizzying greed blinding all of them to their fate. The promise of gold and the plying of ale had dulled their senses. When he came to them under the guise of Reek, a friend of Naero's saying the right words, they were his.

"The guards are gone," Ramsay said, "Just like I promised."

"Well done, Reek," Bert said.

As Reek, he was always eager to help. None who met Reek thought they were in danger or considered him a threat. He was a friend. Ramsay never tired of seeing the surprise in their eyes when they realized their mistake. All too late, he savored those memories, when they realized they're nothing but meat to be sacrificed.

There, he saw it, saw her. A large grey fin, heralding her arrival, before she dipped back beneath the sheet of water disappearing from view. He was the only one who saw her. The others were all focused on the dock that was getting closer to them. Muttering about what they'd purchase with gold they didn't deserve or have.

He was flushed with excitement. At knowing what was about to happen. One by one they'd be devoured, he'd be in the middle of their fear, reveling in it, savoring their terror filled shrieks like they were the strings of a well struck harp.

"There's something in the water," it was Tom who was the first to notice. A thief with a chin as nearly as wide as his forehead.

"Rocks," Bert dismissed, "its just rocks," he was already on his feet, ready to jump off his boat as soon as they were close enough to reach the dock.

The dock was close, but she was closer.

"It was moving," Tom had stopped rowing.

Bill's oar stilled in his hands. "I don't see nothing."

Ramsay remained quiet. He moved in his seat so he could take in their faces, wanting to put it all to memory so he could revisit it.

"Just the shadows playing tricks on ya," There was an impatient inflection in Bert's voice, "Be quiet and keep rowing."

Ramsay noticed the exchange of looks between the rowers, Tom frowned, while Bill shrugged, but they followed their orders. He tried to raise their spirits. "Just remember what's waiting for you," he assured them, concealing the surge of excitement he felt within him.

They had barely rowed a few more feet when the boat lurched suddenly, swaying violently. Ramsay had already been holding, waiting. He watched with bated breath, Bert stumble, but to his disappointment he remained on the boat.

"We must've hit a rock," Bert complained, and when he moved to look into the water, the boat jerked again. His shout was swallowed up by the splash he made.

Tom snickered, while Bill smiled neither of them seemed concerned about Bert's plunge into the water.

Ramsay watched Bert sputter out water and curses, as he kicked his legs to stay afloat. "Pull me up!" he shouted at them, but it wasn't fear that filled his voice, only annoyance at having fallen overboard.

He didn't move to help, searching for her in the water. Ramsay had seen her more times than he could count, but her wondrous form always left him breathless. She passed below them, her conical snout, jaws filled with razor sharp teeth, her large black eyes. The rest of her body followed for so long, she didn't seem to have an end, until at last he saw her long scythe tail propel her forward, surging towards her prey.

Ramsay didn't know if it was Tom's voice or Bill's that pulled him out of his silent admiration of her, but their warnings came too late to save Bert.

Her jaws easily closed in around Bert's torso further exemplifying her great size. His scream was short, and sharp, his body writhing, until she bit down. In an instant, Bert was silent and still. She nearly severed him in half with the one swift bite. The loud crunch of bones and flesh carried to their boat, but the sweet sound was nearly drowned out by the incoherent shouts of Bill and Tom. Their clumsy panic threatened to sour Ramsay's enjoyment.

She disappeared in a cloud of red water pulling the dead Bert with her. He wanted to see more, the biting, the savaging, the devouring. The powerlessness her prey must feel as she consumed them. Before her we are nothing.

He was enthralled at what she left them. In their frenzied panic, they were unable to appreciate the beauty blooming before them. The blushing red seeping and swirling and clashing with the blue water. At how the blood moved, stretching out to him, reaching for him, wanting to touch him.

They were too distracted to see what came next. Their backs were turned to him, not realizing that this wasn't an unforeseen tragedy, but a trap until it was too late. Knowing, he needed to be quick, he shoved Bill off the boat. Tom had enough time to turn around to see the dagger. He twisted his body to avoid being stabbed. The move made him unsteady on his feet allowing Ramsay to push him over, following Bill into the water.

"What are you doing?" Bill shouted. He was a bobbing island in a sea of Bert's blood.

Tom's arms were flailing in the water in a desperate attempt to try to return to the boat.

Are you ready for more? He wondered if she was still feasting on Bert. He knew she was still hungry. He'd seen her eat many enemies and gorged herself on many sacrifices to the Drowned God. He grabbed one of the oars, ready to use it if either Bill or Tom tried to reach him. She didn't leave him waiting long.

A large silvery streak moved beneath them. He craved to know what she was thinking, seeing. How he wanted to experience her power, her hunger as she moved in the seas, unrivaled. Then, he would've known what compelled her to choose Tom over Bill. Unlike her attack on Bert, Tom saw her, trying to avoid her lethal bite, kicking and cursing. Pointless, Ramsay gleefully watched, her jaws close in around one of Tom's legs after one of his futile attempts to kick her. With a vicious tug she pulled his leg free. It disappeared inside her mouth, appearing to have been slurped up in a single spasm.

Tom's ensuing scream made Ramsay shiver. Was this how Father felt when he flayed his enemies within the walls of the Dreadfort? He doubted his father had even come close to this power, this sweet terror that washed over Ramsay. Father would never feel this strong, or this fulfilled. He needed hounds for his hunt, while Ramsay got to watch her, the greatest of hunters.

Tom's breath came in wet huffs, drifting in water laced with his own blood. He cried in the darkness for his gods' mercy, but she was the one who answered. She returned with a savage strike from the side, but before Ramsay could witness her kill, his attention was abruptly snatched away when the boat lurched unexpectedly, colliding with something that sent him hurling forward and hitting the bottom.

He scrambled up to see the boat had hit the dock. He had been so enraptured by her that he hadn't been paying attention to the boat's drifting direction. He scurried onto the dock from Bert's boat, glancing back to where Tom had once been, but now all that was there were lingering pieces of his flesh floating in the bloody bay. Ramsay groaned, disappointed that he missed out on seeing her take the thief.

Still, he reminded himself, there was still one more. However, when he looked out, he didn't see Bill. All he saw was the red muddled waters where Tom and Bert had been taken. Has she already taken him? Ramsay didn't stay on the question for more than a passing heartbeat when he spotted him.

Ramsay's footfalls alerted Bill that he had been found. The thief desperately tried to scramble up out of the water and onto the dock. His hands trying to find purchase on the boards. His muscles trembling to pull himself up.

His shadow fell over the sacrifice. Looking out, Ramsay saw she was approaching them. Her large fin resembled a great grey sail, knifing the sea, while her tail whipped the water from side to side. He looked back down at Bill whose face had lost all color, bits of blood and brine clung to his skin.

It happened in a second, but it played out in one long heartbeat for Ramsay. Bill's fingers clawing at the board, heaving as he tried to lift himself up as she surged towards him. His body shuttered like a puppet's strings being abruptly cut, when her jaws closed in around him. His arms clumsily flailed in his death throes before his body slackened.

Ramsay felt her gaze on him. Her large, black eyes, unblinking in her stare. With her mouth open, it looked like she was grinning. He returned her smile, watching as she dipped beneath the waves, taking her killed prey with her. He remained there for some time. It had been a very good night.

A/N: This is all just some fun writing exercises which leads me to the goals of this chapter: trying to write a Ramsay POV, an AU and OOC version of the character, who worships the Drowned God in his own way, and writing/describing a shark attack in the ASOIAF setting. Hopefully, it wasn't too terrible.

Any Easter eggs/references in this chapter:

-Bert, Tom, and Bill (William) in this chapter are named after the three trolls in J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit

-"we should've gotten a bigger boat." A nod to the iconic line in Jaws.

Until next time,

-Spectre4hire