A/N: Even before this chapter, I'd argue that each of Dagon's heralds had been either: seen, hinted at, and/or referenced in one way or another, but with this chapter, there's not a shadow of a doubt. They're all out there now. Some more obvious than others, but all seven can be found in these fourteen chapters.

Farwynd & Fire

By Spectre4hire

14: The Second Interlude: The Lord of Storm's End

Gods, this was boring.

Renly drank until his cup was empty and when it was, he refilled it. He offered to top off Davos, who sat across from him, but he declined. He looked to have barely drunk from his.

The sea was a shitty road. His stomach roiled; he thought a carriage was bumpy. The ship was always in motion, moving and swaying, and rocking. Even when he moved slowly across the ship, he stumbled. Renly also had to be mindful of everything he put down, especially his food and drink. He started to hold his drink after it had spilled on his lap the first day. Thankfully, he was alone for that gaffe. But holding the cup meant he kept drinking from it.

He was in his cabin with Davos, the captain of the Black Betha. However, Renly needed him more for this mission, so he moved Davos so he could serve him on Fury. Being its captain in all but name. While Black Betha fell under the command of Davos' third son, Matthos who had previously served as his father's second.

The time seemed to slow to a crawl out at sea. Renly had thought he could pass the time by listening to what Davos knew of this ironborn, who they were after. He hadn't had time before they left because had much to do in the passing days between Robert giving him the mission, and when the ships departed. He threw a feast to announce the news of his important mission. They had cheered and congratulated him, toasting to his success. Loras had been quick to volunteer to come with him, and Renly gladly accepted him.

But Loras wasn't here. Before they were to set off, a raven came from Highgarden. Lady Olenna was unwell, and he needed to return. She'll outlive us all, Renly had told him, wanting to comfort him and the smile Loras gave him had been one of the last good things he's seen since he left King's Landing. A bump or a swell or whatever the sailors called it, broke his musings on his beloved Loras and returned his focus on the Onion Knight.

Only having half listened to what had been said, Renly still knew what to say. "He collects more names than ladies do baubles." In these stories borne from rumors and gossip, this ironborn had been given many names:

Dagon the Devout, The Drowned Herald, The Hand of God.

Ser Davos didn't chuckle or even crack a smile.

Loras would have laughed, Renly missed his laugh. Davos was a good man, but he wasn't his Loras. He forced himself to push aside his knight, knowing it would only bring him longing, and returned to this Dagon Farwynd. He admired his ambition, but thought the ironborn had blundered and overreached. "All that gold he has," Renly did pay close attention to that part, "he may as well have tossed it into the sea for his god to claim because he'll never get to spend it once we catch him."

"If."

"What do you mean if?" He straightened up in his seat. "We have more than a dozen war ships and this," meaning the ship they were currently on, Fury. "He's no ship in his fleet to match Fury." He pointed to him, "You said that yourself."

"Aye, I did," Davos agreed, "But it isn't losing a battle against him that concerns me. It's him slipping by us," he revealed. "I can't reckon if he has some holy blessing from his god, or what deeds he's done, but I do know his ship is fast and he's never been successfully captured or cornered."

"Until now," Renly declared.

"But what if he does?" Davos asked respectfully, "What then?"

Renly thought this whole thing was getting absurd and was starting to get annoyed at this insult whether the Onion Knight meant it as one or not. "We give chase," He couldn't return empty handed.

Davos bowed his head, finally sensing he overstepped himself. "My apologies, my lord." He rose from his seat to excuse himself and return to the deck or that's what Renly thought it was called. He decided to go with him. His cabin was becoming insufferable, and he thought the sun could do him some good.

It did not do him any good.

The sun was beating down upon him like an unrelenting hammer. Reaching above deck, the crewmen greeted him and Davos warmly. He liked the Fury crew. They had been wary of him when he came aboard. Likely not used to being in the presence of such a high lord or mayhaps, they thought he'd be as boorish as Stannis. They had been as easy for him to win over as the smallfolk. Simple minds want simple things. And Renly could do that. And did for them.

A squawk from overhead made Renly look up to see there was a large bird on the mast or was it the rigging? He forgot what it was all called and left that to Davos. Fury had left King's Landing with more than a dozen ships, including the war galleys: Lord Steffon, Stag of the Sea, The Lionstar, Horned Honor, and Queen Cersei. He hardly traveled by ship, and only did so when he had to, such as visiting his bannermen on Tarth. But none of those trips lasted this long. The ships he liked and were used to was the pleasure barges having taken many on the Mander when he visited Highgarden.

He brushed aside the Tyrells not wanting to linger on his missing Loras. Instead, Renly thought about the gold he was going to get. If it was as much as Davos believed it was, he would throw a feast and tournament upon his return to celebrate his success. Strengthening his popularity with the smallfolk and shoring up his support with visiting lords and knights. And I'll still have plenty left over, he'd need it to keep the support of old friends and to recruit new ones at court. A good tournament and feast would also soften his brother. And he had plans for Robert.

His brother would be so happy, that he'd be sure to listen to him when it came to Robert's queen, the uncaring shrew who thought she was a lion. Renly would tell his brother all about Margaery's beauty, a rose waiting for him to pluck. And weren't you always complaining about there being too many Lannisters at court, brother? He would ask him, remind him. And he'd listen, and he'd agree. And Renly would be rewarded.

Hand of the King? He smiled. Jon couldn't live forever. With the new title, he'd sweep the Lannisters out of court and send them back to the Rock, replacing them with true and reliable friends in the Reach. Friends that could be trusted for what was to come.

A low screech pierced his thoughts. It was that damned bird. He looked up at it, as brazen as it could be, with the golden sails of Fury behind it. He turned his attention away from it and onto this powerful ship.

It boasted three hundred oars, with catapults topside and scorpions covering the deck. She was a ship ready for war. He wasn't sailing towards war, but to stop one. Once the ironborn saw this, he thought, they'll know its over. He was already picturing his arrival back at court: the princess in gold fetters and her ironborn husband clapped in irons.

Another obnoxious squawk followed by a ruffling of feathers made Renly glare up at the stupid creature. He saw Davos talking to the Fury's second. He was starboard or was it the prow? Renly gave up with an exasperated breath, annoyed by all the different and new names for everything. What was so hard about just saying front or back? He was sweating through his silks with this smothering heat, and he was regretting how much he had drunk before he had left his cabin.

"Lord Renly," Davos greeted him cheerfully, while being out on the ship had made Renly miserable, it had buoyed the spirits of the Onion Knight. "You'll get your sea legs yet, my lord."

Renly doubted it but smiled in thanks. It proved hard to keep with his trembling legs and roiling belly. "How is-" he failed at remembering the right words, "Everything?" He finished lamely.

"Good, my lord," Davos answered, "We're still a few days from Pentos."

That did cheer him up. "And won't they be surprised to see us," Renly remarked, picturing the bride and groom's faces when they sailed out of Pentos and into their waiting ships. "Not the reception they'll be expecting."

A squawk loud and clear filled the air, setting his teeth on edge and making him forget all about his future triumph. The bird had followed him. A creep of a headache was beginning to set in. Don't any of them hear that damned bird and its incessant squawking? Its mere presence was rankling him. It was Davos who gave a name to the pest.

"That's an albatross, my lord," He took Renly staring at it as if he was actually admiring the bird, instead of beginning to despise it, and its nettlesome noise.

"A silver stag to whoever shoots it down." Renly offered, having had enough of the bird's company.

In an instant, the crew stopped their work. It made for an unsettling sight. His words had stirred something amongst them because now instead of working, they gave him dark looks and were muttering amongst themselves. Their mood had swiftly soured.

"My lord," Davos tried to soothe them with a gesture, before turning back to Renly. "It's ill luck to kill an albatross," he explained. "Haven't you heard the story?" He looked taken aback at the mere idea that someone didn't know it.

Others take that story! A tiny knot of tension had nested in the back of his mind and pulsed with everyone of that bird's damn squawks. Which was becoming quite frequent. He wished Loras was with him. He would've done it without needing a stag. He would've done it for me simply because I asked. But not them, not this crew. Smallfolk and their small minds, he didn't think they could all be that stupid. The anger throbbed inside him.

"Two Stags!" He thought it more than generous, but his offer was met with stony silence. They're trying to get a gold dragon out of me, he almost laughed at their audacity. The offer or even an order for them to just kill it disappeared in an instant when turned from the bird back to them.

There was a chilling stillness on the deck. The dozens of crewmen stayed where they were. Their expressions darkened and their eyes had hardened at his request. For the first time, he felt unwelcomed amongst them, an interloper. A faint unease washed over him.

The albatross made another squawk as if mocking Renly.

Davos was saying something, but he couldn't hear over the roaring in his ears. He needed to leave. The panic was cold and climbing within him. "As you were," he grumbled, stumbling backwards, trying to beat a quick, but dignified retreat below deck and back to his cabin. His footsteps were the only sound he heard on the ship as they watched him pass with their cold, quiet looks.

The last thing he heard before he scrambled below deck was that albatross and its parting call to him.

Renly comforted himself with drink once he was back in his cabin.

He pictured himself off this ship, away from this superstitious crew, and back at the Red Keep. I was hosting my friends at court. Renly was telling them all about his trials during his successful mission. "You'll not believe them," he told his waiting friends, "But they refused to kill a bird," at their stunned silence, he'd add, "they were scared," he would chuckle with them, "of a bird."

They'd titter in amusement at the sailors' simple minds, and gasp in disbelief at such superstitions. They'd be quick to offer him their sympathies for his ordeal. They'd praise him too at how he managed to be successful despite his crew's many shortcomings. The Targaryen princess was a prisoner in the Vale, and her husband's head decorated one of the pikes outside Maegor's Holdfast.

"To Renly Baratheon," they'd all raise their glasses to him. "The one who accomplished what his brother could not!" Rousing a great cheer and chuckles as they drank to his triumph.

And Loras was right there by his side, as he should be. "If only I were there." He'd shake his head in frustration. "I'd have peppered it with arrows." He promised. His beautiful brown eyes were bright, taking the crew's inaction to Renly's offer as a personal slight.

Renly would smile, and then carefully so that none of the others could see, he'd move his hand to rest on Loras' leg, to show his appreciation for him and his support. "I know," Renly would say, "Thank you."

Loras would smile and place his hand atop Renly's which made him want nothing more than to dismiss his friends and be who he really wanted to be with.

"My lord?"

Renly blinked in confusion, hearing Davos' voice but it was coming from Loras' lips.

"My lord?"

Renly woke with a start. "Yes?" He replied, voice thick with sleep, not knowing how long it's been since the incident on the deck. "Come in." It was only then that he noticed it was now night.

Davos did. "We've received word," his face was grim. "The Lord Steffon she's," he hesitated, "she's gone, my lord."

Renly had the two survivors from Lord Steffon brought to his ship.

It had been Black Betha who had found them, and the ship's captain, Davos' son Matthos, now joined them in his cabin. The two survivors were sitting across from Renly, between them was the ship's surgeon-barber, who was called: Uncle Deadly. Gods, he thought, where do they come up with these stupid names? He was a hoary sailor with a deep voice, and deeper superstitions when it came to the sea. Dark eyes, a frowning visage, and a sour view meant Renly tried his best to avoid him.

Standing off to the side closest to Renly was Davos, who had barely spoken since giving him the news of Lord Steffon's fate. The news of the two survivors hadn't loosened his lips. Across from his father was Matthos, young, agreeable, respectful, he was one he knew he could count on in the days to come.

He gave out wine from his private stock, Arbor gold, but none were drinking. The survivors hadn't spoken since they were brought to him. They had already been given new clothes and towels to dry off after being in the water. They now had blankets draped over them like cloaks, but they were still shivering.

Black Betha who had been behind Lord Steffon had watched its demise from a distance, but the captain nor her crew could say with any certainty what had happened, only that Lord Steffon was gone. And by the time they reached where they saw it disappear, all there was to find was flotsam and two survivors, Garrett and Max.

"What happened?" Renly thought he gave them enough time to mull in silence. The quiet was beginning to unnerve him, and the uncertainty of what had happened only made him feel worse. "Was it ironborn?"

"Ironborn," Max mumbled, looking down at his cup as if it had the answer to Renly's questions. He had cut his hand by some floating debris he had clung to. Uncle Deadly had bandaged it, and seemed certain it wouldn't worsen.

"It wasn't ironborn," Garrett had broken his nose in the chaos and confusion of the sinking ship. Uncle Deadly had set it, but dry blood caked parts of his face, including a smear over the bridge of his nose. "It was a wave," He said, "A great wave that plunged our ship into the sea."

That agitated Max, stirring under his many blankets. "It was a kraken!" he hiccupped, "I saw it!" He shuddered, "It was in the wave!"

Renly laughed, but he was the only one. All around him he saw somber faces. It dispelled whatever mirth he had felt at what he thought was an obvious jape or some absurd yarn. In its place, a cold unease crept over him.

Garrett shook his head, but before he could refute his friend, he was cut off.

"Red as blood, it was," Max declared. "It cracked our ship in half like it was a chicken bone." He looked to be on the verge of sobbing. "And then it feasted on the others."

"Others?" Matthos asked.

"We were not the only ones who survived," he was trembling, "Only the last."

It was Uncle Deadly who was the first to find his voice and Renly wished it had been anyone else.

"It's Him," he said in his gravelly voice. "He knows we're trespassing." He made a gesture with his hand, as if fending something off. "The sea belongs to Him."

"Who?"

"He means the Drowned God," Davos answered, without giving a hint of what he actually thought of the words being spoken.

"He Who Dwells Beneath the Waves," Uncle Deadly went on. "T'was His hand that pulled their ship down."

Garrett, who had claimed it was a wave, took no comfort in Uncle Deadly's ominous words. His face had lost all color.

Max wouldn't let the issue lie. "It was no god, but a kraken." His eyes were bloodshot. "It made the wave, it cracked our ship," his face pale from the distress. "And with its great, terrible tentacles, it pulled 'em down one by one, drowning and devouring our crew." Max moved to stand, stopped, and then heaved all over his boots and floor.

Renly hid his grimace, while Matthos helped Max back to his seat. Uncle Deadly used a rag he had with him, got onto his hands and knees and began to wipe up the vomit. He hoped that cleaning the floor would keep Uncle Deadly busy and quiet, but he was wrong.

"It ain't the Seven we should be praying to," he spat on the ground where Max had heaved, "but Him and only Him, while we're in his dominion." His scarred face turned to Renly. "I'm liking this mission, little and less," Uncle Deadly spoke like he was the captain of the ship and not the barber. "We should go back."

"Go back?" Renly scoffed, "Don't be absurd," the hoary sailor had cracked. Gods, this Uncle Deadly has made him long for the days of Pycelle. I'll take the bumbling grand maester over this sailor's mad babbling. He got to his feet, towering over them whether they sat or stood. "Our king gave us a command and we must see it through."

Uncle Deadly wasn't convinced. "What's a king's wrath in the face of a god's?"

He turned to Davos, needing him to talk sense to them.

The Onion Knight hesitated. His hand went to his bag of bones. Why? Renly could only guess. Gratitude? Fear? Reassurance? "Every man who leaves port knows he may not see home again," He was still holding his bag. "We'll make sure their families are seen to, but Lord Renly is right. We must carry on."

The men grumbled their agreement.

Satisfied, Renly next gave the orders that nothing of what was spoken in this cabin was to leave it. The last thing he needed was a panic amongst the crew which would be fervently fanned by Uncle Deadly's vague threats and portents. The men agreed. He'd keep the survivors on Fury, so he could watch them to make sure they didn't stray from the agreed upon story. One that didn't include sea monsters and sea gods being responsible for bringing down Lord Steffon.

Let that be the last we hear of krakens and this Drowned God.

A/N: Renly is on a floating timeline and all that matters is he'll get there when he needs to get there.

The not killing the albatross and Davos referring to it is a reference to a very popular poem: "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. For the sake of this AU, I'm embracing the idea that it's considered bad luck, regardless of if it's considered a myth or not.

To sum up this chapter: Renly was just having a very shitty day. Drank a bit too much, got seasick, overheated, and that bird was just what pushed his nerves over the edge. I made him a novice at sea which made the chapter much easier to write. Like the albatross, it was a way to show how out of his element he is and not really understanding what he was getting into when he demanded this mission.

This was fun to write, because I was finally able to include some things that have only been hinted at. Hope you enjoyed it as well.

With this chapter being the last of the year, I'd greatly appreciate it if you enjoyed the chapter or story to consider taking the time to leave a review. It would really mean a lot. Thank you.

Hope you and yours have a happy and safe New Year.

See you all in 2024,

-Spectre4hire