The sea roared as Elsera Snow stood at the prow of her flagship, the Sealion, eyes locked onto the distant, jagged peaks of the Iron Islands. The wind carried the scent of brine and blood, and behind her, a vast fleet of Northern ships cut through the tremulous waves. Her cloak billowed as she gazed out at the enemy gathering in the distance. She could feel the magic coursing through her veins, chilling the very air around her as she prepared to unleash her wrath upon the Ironborn.
A raven dived from the sky and landed smoothly on the prow of her ship. She immediately turned to her brother.
"What did you find, brother?" Elsera asked, knowing her brother had scouted ahead.
"I see only half-starved desperate men on those ships. Our men can easily overwhelm them." Josera said with a shrug.
"Did you see any reinforcements?"
"I didn't see any ships, but there are men lying in wait on those cliffs." Josera pointed at the distant cliffs where huge boulders and jagged trees stretched out into the blue sky above.
"Send a message to Captain Nimpton to mind the cliffs. Those ships mean to goad us into the range of those cliffs."
"We may not have much of a choice. The Ironborn has dragged this battle by fleeing at the sight of our ships. We need to sweep those ships aside and open Orkmnont for ground invasion." Josera commented.
"Hmm." Elsera hummed.
She knew the value of Orkmont. After all, the island of Orkmont was one of the primary targets of her lord for the simple reason that the land was rich in ores. It was one of the wealthiest places in the Iron Islands, and that was reason enough for her lord to take an interest in it. The island was home to House Orkwood and Tawney, two of the wealthiest houses in the Iron Islands. They lacked the ships to become a major powerhouse among the Ironborn, but they had enough funds to purchase ships for their cause from other islands.
The importance of cutting Orkmont off from the other islands, therefore, held more significance now than ever. Once the North gained control over the island, they could take control of the meagre economy which holds the Iron Islands together.
Besides all that, Orkomont would provide a valuable base to invade Old Wyk and Great Wyk.
To that end, Elsera decided to tilt the balance in the North's favour for a speedy invasion.
Elsera took a small knife on her person and slashed a thin incision on both palms. She held her palms over the railing of her ship and let her blood drip into the ocean below. Closing her eyes, she willed her magic to take form and let her blood magic emerge. Shadows emerged from the little drops of blood and assumed watery forms of humanoid warriors.
"Kill!" Elsera uttered a single command.
Her magic surged, and the shadowy figures sank beneath the waves, swimming unnaturally fast towards the enemy ships. It was not long before they started hearing screams from the Ironborn ships. The screams of dying men and the sounds of battle overshadowed the tremulous sea.
"Now, you can tell Captain Nimpton to finish off the Ironborn once and for all." Elsera said to her brother.
Her brother returned to her side, and together, they waited patiently for the Northern fleet to get closer to the Ironborn ships.
"They're breaking away." Josera observed with his raven flying in the sky, keeping a close eye on every small move the enemy was making.
"Not on my watch." Elsera declared.
With a whispered incantation, the temperature around them plummeted. The sea itself responded to her call, waves surging unnaturally before freezing solid beneath the keels of the Ironborn ships. Caught in her magic, their hulls groaned and cracked as jagged ice spears burst from beneath, impaling sailors and splintering wood.
Cries of panic and fury filled the air. The Ironborn were nothing if not fierce, and even in the face of unnatural cold, they refused to let go of their fighting spirit. Arming themselves with axes and swords in hand, they leaped from ship to ship, seeking to survive and take the battle to the Northern warriors.
The Northern ships slammed into the immobile Ironborn ships, smashing them to smithereens and sending the Ironborn to their watery graves. Smashing of ships, splintering of woods and the blood-curdling screams of men filled the sea. The Ironborn raiders, thrown overboard their ships, desperately tried to stay afloat, but their iron armours dragged them to the bottom of the ocean.
Crossbowmen of the North shot a volley of bolts into the Ironborn ships, clipping the reavers on their necks and any exposed parts of their armour. Elsera watched the bloodshed from the safety of her ship as blood turned the sea red, and at some point, she let the ice dissipate into water. The Ironborn ships sank slowly, with seawater flooding into the hull and dragging it down with injured and dead Ironborn onboard. A few Ironborn brave enough to make peace with their own deaths began to take up bows and rained down arrows on her ship, despite their longship starting to sink.
For the first time since the battle, she unsheathed the wand crafted by her lord and channeled her most potent magic for a spell. A yellow bolt of light spat out of the tip of her wand with a hiss and smashed into the middle of the Ironborn longship. Her spell tore a hole through the middle of the ship, and the resulting explosion threw the archers that dared to sling their arrows towards her position.
The longship broke in two and dragged her enemies to the bottom of the ocean. She watched with a detached amusement as the raiders that plagued the fishing villages of the North died without any glory. It took them three hours to ensure the entirety of the enemy ships and soldiers were dead and left to rot at the bottom of the ocean. After that, their fleet landed rowboats full of Northern soldiers on the island of Orkmont.
******
"They're destroying the islands!" Asha screamed shrilly.
Rodrik sighed and pretended not to hear the complaints and accusations levelled by his niece. Oh, he knew there was truth in his niece's words, but that was an inconvenient truth. He was walking a fine line, steering Harlaw from a certain doom. But his niece was making all sorts of ruckus on his island, which was getting harder to ignore.
"Do you not care for the future of the Iron Islands, uncle? Have you grown accustomed to serving the wolves on your knees?" Asha screamed more in her rage.
Rodrik sneaked a peek at his niece from behind a book, and he immediately recognised that rage well. It was one born out of powerlessness. Sometimes, he also felt this way, but years of wisdom tempered his actions. His niece, on the other hand, was not blessed with the wisdom gained through experience.
'It's not her fault.' He thought with a sigh. 'She has grown up witnessing the mad ramblings of Balon.'
But despite all that, he did not think his niece to be a dumb girl. He knew she could see the prosperity trade with the North brought to Harlaw. Even he was surprised by the wealth that flew into his island from all the trade the Northerners brought to his shores. He was not the only one to notice such a drastic increase in gold and silver flowing into Halaw. His own designated heir, Ser Harras Harlaw, had come around to approve the North's growing influence in the region.
As a man of action, his cousin was one of the few in the family to urge him to act against the North's grip on their ports and harbours. But now, Harras was one of those in favour of the North's dominance since Grey Garden hosted steep earnings from port duties and repairs done by trade ships prowling the Ironman's Bay. It was strange how Northern gold and silver had a tendency to buy the loyalty of men who had been intent on opposing them a year ago.
"If anyone has caused trouble for the islands, then it's your father and uncle." Harras said while walking into the chamber with a dirty look thrown in Asha's direction.
"Look who's here, if it's not the dog of the wolf pups." Asha scowled.
"From my experience, I think the only dog serving the Starks is your brother. After all, wasn't it Theon who snubbed you when you went begging for scraps?" Harras mocked with a sneer.
"You dare!" Asha snarled, her onyx eyes darkening with rage.
"Of course, I thought the lad was smart in snubbing you. He got himself in a cosy position, didn't he?" Harras mocked.
"That's enough, both of you." Rodrik finally spoke up before the two got themselves into a fight.
"Uncle, surely you must see this is the time to act. If we don't do something…" Asha started.
"There is nothing to do, and nothing must be done." Rodrik said firmly.
"What?" Ahsa looked at him with betrayal in her eyes, while Harras looked on with satisfaction.
"I know what the Starks are doing is cruel. It'll most likely spell the doom of our people, but I think this is for the best. The old ways will no longer serve our needs." Rodrik said without any hesitation.
"But…" Asha started again, but Rodrik cut her off.
"I have lost my sons to the folly of your father. I warned him both times not to test the patience of the rest of the kingdoms. He didn't listen. This is the consequence of his actions, and we must bear it and survive."
"You'd hide behind excuses and do nothing." Asha snapped.
"I'm the lord of Harlaw. I do what I do in the best interests of my house and my people. If you can't see that, then you're not as smart as I thought you were, niece." Rodrik said harshly.
"How can you say that, uncle? The Starks have rebelled against the Iron Throne. This is the time to stand against them and push them out of our isles." Asha said passionately, earning a snort of derision from Harras.
"Do you see Stannis Baratheon sending his army to conquer the North, you silly girl? Do you see any of the other kingdoms gathering their armies to strike at the North?" Harras asked with a roll of his eyes.
"Harras is right, Asha." Rodrik nodded. "I believe Stannis Baratheon is rather busy fending off the Targaryen invasion supported by Euron if rumours are to be believed."
"Then we join forces with Uncle Euron and the Targaryens to fight off the Starks and their army. Give me brave fifty men, and I can rescue Theon from the wolves. Together, we can push the Northerners from our seas."
"The girl has gone mad like her father." Harras scoffed upon hearing these silly plans.
Rodrik also had to admit his niece was speaking nonsense. He also recognised this kind of talk was dangerous for his house.
"I have made my decision. House Harlaw has sworn oaths to House Stark, and I intend to keep them as long as my island grows rich. Anyone who threatens peace and prosperity of my house and my island is unwelcome in these halls." Rodrik said firmly.
Asha glared at him before stomping away from his chamber in rage.
"Keep an eye on her activities, Harras. Desperation often drives even the sanest of people to madness." Rodrik shook his head, then gathered himself. "We cannot afford to make an enemy out of House Stark."
"Do you think she'll join forces with Euron?" Harras asked curiously.
"If she leaves the island of her own volition without harming our interests, let her. Her fate is in her hands. I have offered her sanctuary and a good life. It's not our fault if my niece refuses to see reason."
"More of the Northern fleet sails into our shores every day. They've already decimated Orkmont. It won't be long before they turn their full might on Pyke itself." said Harras.
"Let's hope the islands won't suffer the same fate as Blacktyde." Rodrik muttered, even though he had the distinct impression the Starks were interested in repeating Blacktyde on the rest of the islands.
*******
Euron Greyjoy stood atop the deck of the Silence, watching as the fires of Dragonstone turned the night sky into a tumultuous swirl of orange and red. The sea roared beneath him, waves crashing against the hull of his ship, a perfect symphony of chaos and conquest. He had come here under the banner of Viserys Targaryen, the so-called rightful king, though Euron cared little for the cause itself. What he craved was the favour of Viserys' sister, Daenerys, the queen he wished to claim as his own. And through her, he could ascend to greater heights. Her royal blood was the key to his rise.
The enemy fleet lay in tatters on the shore. Stannis Baratheon may have had more ships to spare, but there were not enough good sailors to stand against him and his tactics on the sea. While Stannis's meagre fleet was decimated, there were enough troops that managed to land on the shores of Dragonstone. His plan to use the ground troops sieging the castle as bait worked most splendidly. Under the cover of fog and a minor storm brewing in the sea, he managed to sneak his ships to the rear of the Royal Fleet and take them by surprise.
He employed a bold strategy, and ultimately, he sacrificed a few ships to the storm to make his plan work. Despite that, his plan ultimately yielded results. He managed to decimate the enemy, and now only a few stragglers remained. However, the battle now remained only on land.
The battle itself was a swift affair. The Baratheon troops fought with the knowledge that there would be no escape, with their fleet burning behind them. The castle's defenders had held out against Viserys Targaryen's many assaults on their walls. But they were a spent force with supplies dwindling.
Despite the condition of the castle's garrison, they rode out to meet Viserys's Unsullied troops and sellswords in the field with the fresh Baratheon troops engaging the Targaryen army. The resulting clash was one of the most impressive displays of killing Euron had witnessed. It was better than his own decimation of the Lannister fleet years earlier, followed by the raid on Lannisport.
When the battle finally ended, not a single Baratheon banner flew on the shores.
'Heh! The Beggar King managed to clinch victory.' Euron thought amusedly.
He decided to land on the shore and inspect the battlefield himself while the rest of the fleet took prisoners from the survivors clinging to wooden planks in the sea. He descended from the Silence's deck onto the battlefield, his boots sinking into the wet sand. The salt wind bit at his face as he stepped over the corpses of men who had died screaming.
He walked through the blood-drenched sands of the shore, watching the Unsullied and the sellswords execute the survivors without any mercy. He loved the scent of blood and the desperate cries of men begging for their lives. In the midst of it all, he searched for Viserys Targaryen, and finally, Euron came across a large gathering of Targaryen banners on the battlefield.
But the sight there wiped the smile off his face.
He saw the body of Viserys Targaryen lying prone on the sand with blood pooling beneath him from the deep gash on his neck. Euron clenched his jaw at the sight that greeted him. This was not what he had planned. He had no loyalty to Viserys, but the man had been his key to Daenerys. He would have no place in Daenerys' court if he were associated with the death of her brother.
'I should have stayed on my ship and waited.' Euron thought with a scowl.
He knelt beside Viserys' corpse, his sole eye narrowing as he studied the dead man's expression. There was something almost comical about it. Viserys laid on the ground with his lips parted in a silent scream, as if in disbelief that his story had ended here. Euron's fingers traced the wound cut through the fallen king's throat.
A foolish boy playing at war, he thought.
One of his captains approached with a look of uncertainty.
"What are your orders, Lord Euron?"
Euron's eye shifted from the dead king to the castle, which was now open to them.
'I can make this serve my interests. Perhaps, this idiot's death is a blessing.' Euron mused.
"We claim the castle in the name of the queen and cull all her enemies. Bring those Unsullied to me. I have need of them." Euron ordered.
Euron paced the sands while Viserys' body cooled, his mind already working through the tales he should spin before Daenerys learned of her brother's demise. Viserys had been a fool, unworthy of the throne he had sought.
But Daenerys… she was something else entirely. The Red Woman had promised him many great things with Daenerys by his side. With Viserys out of the way, an opportunity now presented itself before him. But first, he had to ensure Daenerys could depend only on him and him alone.
To that effect, Euron made plans to secure his position. A new plan began to take shape in his mind, one that would make him indispensable to the newly widowed queen. One that would make her see him not as just a general of her fleet, but as the only man in the world who could give her what she truly desired.
He could become the wooden plank for the sinking Daenerys to hold on all alone in an ocean where sharks circled, ready to take a bite out of the dragon. He could be the captain to steer the ship safely from the storm. He could become the friend and advisor that Daenerys solely needs in the days to come.
In the end, he could even become her husband and her king. His mind was suddenly consumed by a vivid vision that seemed all too real. He was sitting on the Iron Throne with Daenerys Targaryen standing by his side as a storm raged around them, blotting out the sun.
AN:
To read ahead of the update schedule; pat(r) eon. C (O) M/Dragonspectre.
For artwork related to the fic:
https://discord.gg/Nw2JH25fJf