A/N: Thanks for all those who took the time to review. It really means a lot to me and the muse.


Farwynd & Fire

By Spectre4hire

24: Narrow Sea I

There were several fins trailing behind Inevitable.

Daenerys watched them from the balcony.

She recognized Mera's curved, black fin. There were a handful of other fins of various sizes of the other spotted whales, just a few of the many that belonged to Mera's pack. The great grey one she knew to be Rhaenys. A lone shark in the company of spotted whales, but she saw no hostility between them. Because Rhaenys was considered one of them. Dagon had seen to that: Rhaenys and Mera are my oldest friends. Rhaenys had been his first companion, and Mera, his second. He had told her throughout the centuries that many of his ancestors had bonded with spotted whales. They are well known and well regarded in my family.

She knew a few more of the pack were ahead of Inevitable, slicing through the waves. They talked to one another in clicks and whistles. Daenerys liked to listen and to watch them, enjoying their playfulness with one another and how graceful they swam. On the surface, they all looked similar, but Dagon had taught her each of these whales had its own unique name, voice, and nature. They were a family.

She had been out on this private balcony the day they left Pentos. Daenerys had watched the city shrink from view and when Pentos became so small she could blot it out with her thumb, she did. Farewell, brother, she had thought, sailing into the loving embrace of the sea. For so long, Viserys had been what she thought of, when she heard the word: family. Now, she saw Dagon, and of the children they'd have. She wondered if his seed had already taken root inside her, she hoped and prayed it had.

If not, the thought still made her smile, knowing it just meant that they just needed to keep trying. Just this evening before taking their meal, she had mounted him on their bed, enjoying the sight of him below her. At how his eyes looked at her, at how his hands touched her, at how he felt inside her. He worships me, she thought with dizzying exaltation, while the passions burned hot and bright as dragonflame within her, chasing her pleasure, and savoring the ensuing ecstasy that hit her like a tidal wave, washing over her every pore and nerve. Collapsing atop him, his muscular arms curling around her, she wanted to hold onto that blissful moment when everything was just perfect.

The days at sea had been as wonderful as she had imagined they'd be. She spent her time learning more of the crew, and of the ship, listening to their songs, and watching their work, wanting to know it all. All she saw was the open ocean and open sky, and it was all so beautiful. There was no land to be seen. Daenerys knew that many captains preferred to stay close to the coast, hugging the land, wanting to see it as they sailed, but there were still times during a voyage when that was impossible. Those portions of the trip always seemed the tensest. The unnerved sailors, and the stressed captain, as if all of them were holding their breath, waiting for it to end, and when they spotted land again, they sighed, relieved, and thankful it was all over.

But not Dagon, she remembered he gave the orders when they left Pentos to sail straight out into the open waters. His crew took it without complaint. And none of them showed a shred of concern. It was all old practice to them, she realized, watching most of the other ships follow him out.

From the balcony, she looked out at the stars and listened to the peaceful lapping of the sea against the ship. The embers of the brazier hissed like an impatient animal. She turned to where she had placed her dragon eggs. They had been his last gift to her during his weeklong courtship of her. Time had turned them to stone, was what he had told her, but she didn't think so. She moved one of the eggs over, an orange flame licked the air in protest at its disturbance. Daenerys had seen them in her dreams, and in her drowning. And so much more. When she heard the approaching footsteps, she smiled and opened her eyes only to watch them rise. A pair of tentacles erupted from the sea, spiraling upwards. Scylla, she realized in awe.

"She doesn't have too long," Dagon had come up alongside her. "She has to feed soon." Something flickered over his face, and she understood they were having their own conversation.

She looked down into the churning waters of the sea below them to see a glimpse of the kraken. Its outline was displayed by dazzling colors that rippled along its skin with impossibly long tentacles, several of which were lazily floating along the sea's surface, but they looked like they could stretch up to the skies to pluck a star if it cared to. Daenerys took the creature in with dizzying wonder. Even partially obscured by the sea, what she saw of its immense size and splendor was humbling.

Her eyes shifted to the towering tentacle in front of her. "You're as fierce as the stories say." The tentacle stiffened and then bent low, its movement resembling a bow. She laughed, stealing a glance towards her husband to see his pale blue eyes on her, with a hint of a smile. Daenerys touched it next; the kraken's tentacle was wet and slippery. She ran her fingers down it, avoiding its suction cups and retractable barbs. This was a creature that could break ships in half like they were pieces of crisp bacon. And she already has. Thinking about the ships the Usurper had sent after them, some had already been sunk and shattered, but not all. There were still others out there, to be hunted, and to be destroyed. This fleet was punishment from the Usurper because he feared her family's blood, our legacy. They wanted to seize her, to separate them, to kill him.

"Show them no mercy," Daenerys murmured softly, and turning to her husband, she knew Scylla had heard and understood. And that made her smile.


"Is this?"

"It is," Davos confirmed grimly.

Renly looked over the side as Fury silently sailed past the flotsam, the watery ruins of Horned Honor. She had been sighted by their lookout, a wooden and broken husk. It had been a solemn ride that seemed to last forever before Fury was close enough to confirm it was one of theirs.

Of course it was one of ours. Renly watched a chest float by, idly wondering its contents. Mayhaps, the cook's potatoes or the captain's spare trousers? The black humor was all he could cling to in the face of another loss. They had lost five ships since they left King's Landing: Lord Steffon, Lionstar, Queen Cersei, The Laughing Storm, and now Horned Honor. All of them claimed by the greedy, grasping hands of the sea.

The crew murmured their respects for their fallen comrades. He looked up and down, watching them, some made gestures that Renly thought odd and not ones he was taught by the Faith, others offered words and prayers, but to what gods, he couldn't say. Uncle Deadly's voice rose over the mourning murmuring, his deep voice was hard stone grating against Renly's nerves. Of course, the crew seemed to take comfort and shelter from his ramblings, so Renly let them be, but it didn't mean he had to listen to it.

He was ready to go back to his cabin for some more Arbor gold. Loras's handsome face flashed before him, with his lively, golden eyes, and beautiful brown curls, he loved to run his fingers through when they were alone. It had been Arbor gold they had drunken after their first time together. It had never tasted sweeter in the past or since that night. Cozy by the glowing hearth, though they hardly needed the warmth with how cool the nights were at Highgarden.

More cargo passed, obstructing his memories of Loras, rippling the better days away to remind Renly how far away he was. We shall drink many bottles from the Arbor on my return in the privacy of my chambers. He would regale Loras of his ventures on the Narrow Sea of enduring storms and defeating ironborn. Horned Honor may have been lost, but Davos had told him they were likely to lose ships on the way, either scattered or sunk by the sea. They still had more than the ironborn, and Fury was worth at least three ships all by herself. This will just make the songs grander and my triumph sweeter.

His better mood had barely settled over him when the stray thought came to him.

"The bodies," he said softly, so only Davos could hear beside him. "Shouldn't there be bodies?" Thinking about it, he was certain they hadn't seen a single corpse since they spotted the sunken ship remains. Mayhaps, they were on the other side? The port, or was it starboard? He pushed aside the meaningless name, because the crew would have called it out. So where are the bodies? A cold unease passed through him.

"There should be," Davos's confirmation gave him no comfort.

Windproud, the name came to him unbidden, and his stomach roiled. It was said for several days every tide would bring swollen corpses on the strand below Storm's End, the mocking mimicry of a supplicant giving their offerings. Only one survived the shipwreck that drowned more than a hundred men, including his parents. It had been a naked fool. Now that was a herald worthy of the Drowned God. Recalling how some called Farwynd such a foolish thing.

It was said his father thought the fool could make Stannis laugh. Patchface, a shiver of revulsion went up Renly's spine at just the name. The fool was a hideous creature and he was glad to be rid of it. Thinking the fool found good company with his niece, Shireen. Renly wasn't surprised the girl would like him. The fool was likely the only thing uglier than her in all the Seven Kingdoms.

"I'll be in my cabin," Renly was tired and thirsty. He wanted to get below deck, to get away from everything and everyone else.


The Arbor gold didn't soothe his troubled stomach, but that didn't stop him from emptying the glass and pouring another. Holding it in his hands, as if it was more precious than gold, he sat in the dark, and drank. Despite being so far away, Storm's End still loomed over him, a stormy cloud with its stormy memories that had followed him to his cabin.

"Robert and Stannis saw it all," he said to no one, remembering the tales he heard as a boy. "At how they stood on the parapets of Storm's End, watching our parent's ship be spotted." He drank a long, greedy sip, but he was thirsty. "And then sunk." Only stripes of light could reach him in the gloom of his cabin, having pulled the curtains closed some time ago. Renly had never asked them if the story was true. Stannis was as cold as the Wall while the only past Robert wished to speak on was never about his home or family, but of the Vale and Ned Stark. If his precious Lyanna had been closer to him, Renly had no doubt, his brother would've sent men first to rescue her before sending help to his starving brothers. "What are his bloody brothers worth?" He asked his shaky shadow, "when there's wolves to be had."

When he was little, but before the war had started, he used to hide and explore throughout the castle and had become quite good at it. It was how he found the best spots, hidden places where he could hear the idle gossip and passing stories of the servants, who were unaware of him, hiding and listening. That's how he learned what his father's favorite song was: The Bear and the Maiden Fair and how he'd demand it be played whenever a bard was visiting, and insist everyone sing along, noble guests and servants alike. It was how Renly knew his mother had a scar on her right knee from slipping on wet rocks in a stream looking for salamanders. She had been no older than Renly had been then. He'd not forget his grandfather's reaction when he finally mustered the courage to ask him if it was true.

"Aye," he had said, his voice wobbly, "Cass used to love finding and collecting them." His green eyes unfocused and glistening, "small turtles too."

Not liking the coiling in his gut, nor the coldness of it, he tipped his head to drink, to not dwell on ghosts, but found his goblet had gone dry. He quickly remedied that, but he needed to open a new bottle. He tried to remember which cup he was on, but his thoughts were all fuzzy and bumping into each other. And he lost all interest when he poured the wine, and took a sensible sip, going back to his boyhood days at Storm's End before the war.

It hadn't just been his parents he learned about from his household help. "I also learned the words shit and arse," He chuckled, musing on the other colorful words and actions he learned from them. "To all the cooks and servants for my well-rounded education." He drank to the old hags and hoary, hairy men he left behind in that castle, not wanting or needing them in the capital. Though the credit for learning fuck went to his older brother Robert, remembering Robert saying it, and Stannis disapproving of it. "To the crude and the prude." The swell of the waves nearly made him empty his cup on his silk shirt. "This was a name day gift from Loras!" He drunkenly declared, offended at the sea's audacity.

The Narrow Sea rocked and rolled below them, never letting him rest. "Well, I say," Renly said aloud, "Gods damn the sea and all its smelly, slimy fish." He condemned the creatures and then drank to their deaths.


"Are you certain?"

Renly couldn't stop smiling, not after hearing the good news, and because it was such good news, he wanted to hear it again.

The captain of the Seaswift obliged him. "I am." He had droopy eyes, a hawkish nose, and thinning brown hair. "North of Pentos," he went on, "Hiding in an inlet. It was with one other ship."

He clapped his hands and chuckled at his good fortune. Farwynd had sent his fleet south, and then went north hoping Renly would follow the fleet's trail. He thought to fool me. Renly had poured the captain a good dornish vintage. The Seaswift captain had sniffed it, scrunching his nose and made no attempt to drink it. Renly wouldn't let the captain's poor taste in drink ruin his good mood. "And you weren't seen?"

"Of course not," The captain had boasted there was no ship faster in all the royal fleet than his. I see them, but they never see me. He had declared, and it seemed he was right to be so proud of his ship and his skills.

"You're sure it was Inevitable?" Davos hadn't accepted a cup. He was neither smiling at their good news nor looking pleased at how well this was all shaping up for them.

"Yes," the captain answered, "The ship matched your friend's description. It bore Farwynd's personal standard, and with our far-eye, we saw the name painted plainly enough."

During their journey across the Narrow Sea, Davos told and retold stories about this Dagon Farwynd, including recent ones from his friend, Rowlf, who had accompanied the ironborn on his last expedition. The story Renly remembered was of how Farwynd waited in an inlet to strike a pirate's ship. And he means to do it to us. Renly nearly snorted into his cup, savoring a sweetness that wasn't of his wine, but of his victory which felt just as near as the glass in hand.

When the captain told them his predictions of how long it would take for them to reach Inevitable. Renly was ecstatic at how close they were. But not Davos. The onion knight looked contemplative instead of celebratory. It was enough to make Renly want to roll his eyes. Davos has been duped by these tall tales. He saw it plain enough. Farwynd was just a man. Renly was to see to that himself. A cornered man whose time had run out. Davos may be a knight, but he still showed himself to be of smallfolk stock, superstitious and small minded.

Renly dismissed the two, but not before giving the orders for their ships to set off to where Inevitable was holed up. He didn't refill his glass until the door closed behind them. In the quiet of his cabin, he turned over the idea he had been considering these last few days. One he kept to himself, but the more time passed, the more certain he became of the merit behind it. It was the only way. He was going to kill Daenerys Targaryen and her traitorous ironborn husband.

It had first come to him in one of his stupors after learning about the loss of one of their ships either Lionstar or Queen Cersei, he couldn't remember. The idea lingered and with a clear head, he saw the growing sense behind it. He measured it carefully, knowing the backlash it might cause, and the expectations of what he was supposed to do, but those he could handle. For that he had no doubt, his brother could be prickly, but he was pliable and Renly knew what to say and what to do. And I'll be doing something that Stannis failed to do all those years ago. If not the death blow to the Targaryen dynasty than Renly's was the one that followed it, making sure the family couldn't ever rise again. The dragons were done.

Robert would likely bluster about it, but once they were alone, he would remind him of the truth: You wanted them dead, brother. Those had been your wishes. Until he had been persuaded by old men: Jon Arryn and Barristan Selmy. Men who were old enough to remember respectable Targaryens, holding onto legacies that have since crumbled into ash and dust. Robert would come to his senses, and if not publicly than privately he'd thank Renly, realizing his younger brother made the tough, but right choice. With that gratitude came an opportunity that he'd use for the games to come. He hoped Loras would bring his sister to court when it was time to celebrate Renly's triumph. He would make her one of his personal guests, so she could sit closer to Robert, and show him the charms and beauties that the Reach could offer him. Robert's Lannister queen will look like a wilting flower to the Rose of Highgarden.

The only thing that bothered Renly about his new plan was the sacrifice he was making with the gold he was sure to lose. He tried to console himself by hoping Farwynd didn't have that much with him. He likely sent it with the rest of the fleet. Besides, mayhaps Robert will reimburse him for that missing gold as part of his reward.

It was all so perfect. He thought. And it was all so close to happening.


It was nearing nightfall when the bombardment started.

Fury bristled with ready scorpions and catapults that would fling barrels of burning pitch.

When they had neared the inlet, Renly had come on deck to inform his crew they wouldn't be boarding the vessels but destroying them. He was pleased to see how well his crew received his new orders. But of course, Davos wasn't one of them.

"My lord," he said with a touch of hesitation, knowing he should be mindful of what he said, but that still didn't stop him from continuing. "Our orders were to capture them."

"Our orders have changed," Renly said firmly. "My brother will understand." He looked out where Inevitable and the other ship whose name he didn't bother to learn had been hiding in the inlet. But now there's no escape. He smiled at how well his plan was coming together. They were trapped, pinned by Renly's fleet: Fury, Seaswift, Stag of the Sea, and Lady Lyanna. It was true they were missing a few ships, but they had this clearly in hand. He was sure Robert would like that one of the ships that had made it was the Lady Lyanna. Afterwards, they could send men on the smaller boats, to check the corpses and kill whatever men survived their surprised assault. It was all simple enough, why couldn't Davos see it? From the corner of his vision, he saw Davos remained uncertain. "Do I need to give this task to another?"

Davos shook his head. "No, my lord." His hand went back to the small bag of fingerbones. "I'll see to it."

Renly nodded. "Good," he let Davos's earlier objection slide since his son's ship, Black Betha, was one of the ships that hadn't yet arrived.

The albatross cawed above them, but even its presence couldn't affect his soaring spirits. After these ships were sunk, Renly decided, he'd order casks of ale to be opened to allow his men to revel in their great victory. Let them celebrate, he thought, and he was still thinking on their impending success when the sky filled with streaking fireballs and scorpion bolts. Farwynd, Renly looked out where the enemy's ship was. You never had a chance.


A/N: EDITED ON APRIL 24, 2024

MY NEXT UPDATE FOR THIS STORY IS GOING TO BE AWHILE. IM SORRY FOR THE INCONVIENANCE. A USER WHO GOES BY THE NAME: ALEXANDER BLACKFYRE ON WEBNOVEL AND HAS COPIED MY STORY: 'A DRAGON'S ROAR,' RETITLED IT, AND IS POSTING IT CLAIMING IT TO BE THEIR STORY. NOT ONLY ARE THEY TRYING TO TAKE CREDIT FOR MY WORK, THEY'RE TRYING TO MAKE MONEY TOO.

I WANT TO THANK THE READERS WHO HAVE BROUGHT THIS TO MY ATTENTION. I'M TRYING TO GET THEM TO TAKE IT DOWN, BUT THIS IS HAS BEEN A DISHEARTENING EXPERIENCE.

I hope you can understand. And I apologize for the all caps

Old Author notes:

In writing this chapter, I decided Renly was going to lean into this like a good B movie antagonist and Renly was happy to oblige me.

Renly is misremembering the story Davos had repeated to him off-page, but it was the one Davos told to Jon Arryn in chapter 7. He misremembers b/c Renly was never really paying attention, which is hinted at in their chapter 14 conversations so in Renly's biased pov, he's falsely recalling it. Just a way of showing how the unreliable narrator works in this story.

In this story, a great white shark and killer whales get along. Dagon performed another miracle. Spotted Whales (Orcas) are called wolves of the sea in the ASOIAF verse which is why their group is referred to as a pack. In our world we refer to them as a 'pod,' (sizes vary on how many in a pod), but I didn't think 'pod' worked as well in this setting. I could be wrong, but whatever.

A reminder that this story is held up by scotch tape and a lot of suspension of disbelief. And if anything looks wrong then it's done on purpose for the sake of this story.

Thanks for the support,

Spectre4hire