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298 AC
Dreadfort
Dungeons
*The rustle of hulking cell doors echoed within the dungeon of the dark caverns.
She could hear the screams of her men. The wails of their pain, the same men she had sailed with to ravage the north and plunder it, as was the iron born way.
A decision she had now regretted.
And how wrong they were about its vulnerability. A force of over a thousand infantry had quickly came out of nowhere upon them in Deepwood motte, and the soldiers of the flayed men had seen their numbers reduced to only a few dozen and out of the thirty ships that sailed with her only one managed to escape. The others … were captured in the attack.
"I see you're up" the door swung open to reveal a man of essosi descent.
He had a guard to his back, not the same black covered soldiers she had fought days prior , no….this one was decked out in full red plate his eyes were cold and his face was …unrelenting it. It gave little away and this was perhaps the only way she could describe the mainlander. He wasn't ugly nor was he a handsome fellow but he looked the stern man he exuded the energy of being.
"I had planned to visit you a bit earlier but some duties have kept me busy from other important matters",
He spoke as if he was having a regular conversation between friends, she recognized that friendly off put tone, and even now as she observed him take a seat that was placed before her by one of the jailers, he seemed like any smug wealthy merchant that had owned ships that she often raided.
And she wouldn't allow such a cunt the satisfaction of breaking her spirit , she would rather croak in pain that him seeing that side of her.
She spat at the ground at his words showing her defiance. And nevertheless the man was silent for a second at her action before sporting a smile.
"Now, now. We neither need to do this Lady Greyjoy. You are a guest of ours. No further harm will come to neither you nor your brother. That the lord Bolton has decreed".
"The last time I remember Lord Stark holds the north and it is his words that rule not yours nor you boltons, so don't speak of guarantees that you don't have the power to keep", She says.
We murdered robbed and killed a manybof the northern natives so did he think she was naive enough to think that she wouldn't die for this treachery.
"Well …..you are somewhat right" he now admitted.
"I can't guarantee your safety or that you'll be completely unharmed in your tenure here. For you will be the one that will decide your own fate. Lord Bolton wants the Iron islands for the north and either you or your brother will deliver it to us, whoever it may eventually be amongst you two would be measured by your cooperations", Caro says seriously as he looked upon her dirt stained face and ruffled hair.
The time in the cell hadn't done her any good, she smelt like shit, the cell smelt like piss and to be truthful he wanted to leave as quickly as possible, he hated it down here, he always did. The Dreadfort no matter its expanding bright and nice town it would always feel eerie to him.
"As if I'd work with cunts like you lot", she spat the words like venom.
"And here I thought you were smarter than your brother but it seems like pride and salt had clouded your judgement, but we shall see",
Caro says in finality to the chained woman as he rose from the small wooden chair.
"When my liege returns I hope your answer changes and we can come to some form of accord but until then enjoy your stay once more", he then added in pause at the door taking his last glance at her.
—— —- —— —— —- —-
Dragonstone
Never had the flames shown clearer than they did now. And now as she looked deeper into the flaming hearth , she saw it, the dragon, the stag, lion, the wolf , fish and kraken bowing at the feet of a man. A man in crimson.
A golden crown was encrusted on his brow.
And just as he was staring at the creatures that prostrated themselves before him, the man turned his head in a quick sudden move to glance at her and she yelped in surprising pulling herself from the flames.
'By the Red God she thought!'
"Not what you were expecting?"
She heard behind her, making jump mentally.
"Your grace", she bowed her head.
"What did you see?", He asked? Caring not about her greeting.
He had enough with her prophetical messages and inclinations , said prophetic inclinations hadn't seen the attack that would've destroyed the majority of his army and put him in the position he was in now.
And while he often utilized Melisandre for her magical powers as in the example of assassinating Renly and Cortnay Penrose, he often overruled her and did not always follow her counsel but now he wanted to know what she saw to make her worry for a second.
She hesitated for a second.
"Did I stutter? I said tell me what you saw," He grounded out firmer this time.
"A bloody stag beaten and broken standing on a altar of blood amidst its enemies. A sign of the harsh sacrifices you would have to make once more, yet in the flames the stag had looked back at me." She lied.
It didn't bode well to tell Stannis of what sge truly saw.
It wasn't something real but signs and signals always had some form of meaning. But it still wouldn't do good to put him at any further unease.
"Is that so?" He said almost sarcastically.
"Through all that I've done and more and I've still yet to reclaim what was mine!!" He slammed his fist down.
"All your words are now wind, we have been drawn down to the lowest rung and castrated like cattle. We are no longer a threat to the thrown now that the reach had aligned itself with the Lannisters yet tell me how do you expect me to fight them? Tell me how your God expects me to contend with this so called journey I would eventually partake in once more?" The man says , the last bit sounding all but mockingly.
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One Man to Rule them
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