Chapter 37: Chapter 37 (Revamped)
(Erlend Mudd, The Sunset Sea)
Following his instructions, Stannis and Oberyn succeeded in taking Great Wyk, while Kevan and Mace also captured Saltcliffe and Old Wyk. Yohn and Benjen managed to do their part as predicted.
Leaving only Lonely Isle and Pyke untouched.
After a bit of thought, Erlend had decided to divert his fleet toward ensuring his great lords were able to secure the captured Islands.
It had taken a few weeks to get that done much to his chagrin, this was mainly due to the fact that there were objections to wiping out whole noble houses just because they refused to lay down their arms and surrender.
Erlend merely asked them if they wanted their children and grandchildren to deal with what they had, because that was how long the Ironmen usually took to lick their wounds and jump right back to their 'Old Way'.
There was also the subtle reminder that every lord present had lost more than a little gold to the raids launched. Rebuilding villages and settlements took time, gold, and manpower, which could be better spent elsewhere.
Not to mention the loss of able labor would be keenly felt for generations to come, greatly slowing down output and productivity.
For a lot who abhorred the idea of 'copper counting' they certainly became quite defensive about their gold being taken. Eventually, the fuckers caved in, not that he cared, whether they liked it or not, Erlend had every intention of ridding this plague from the world.
It must be noted that Mace Tyrell was quite put out when he realized that Dunstan Drumm and Red Rain were nowhere to be seen within Old Wyk. The Tyrell lord was well known for his desire to take the valyrian blade for his House, incidentally, he was also one of the more vocal supporters of Erlends plan.
Thankfully, after that irritating fiasco, they were now on their way towards Pyke.
As they neared Pyke, hundreds of ships surrounded the regional Capital. Euron had sent whatever ships that could sail to delay the kingdom's fleets.
Of what his imprints could see and hear, the man wasn't at all afraid of them. The ships sent were mainly bait for Erlend to bring in his Dragons. It felt more like those defense games he used to play in his past life, except he was the attacker this time.
At first Erlend, just allowed his fleets to take care of the waves sent by the Mad Greyjoy, but as more ships from his fleets were lost or damaged, he quickly got annoyed with the whole situation.
No one wanted to admit it, but when it came to fighting on the sea, the Ironmen were some of the best at it. These fuckers were well aware of the fate that awaited them, so in comparison to his forces, they were far more zealous in battle.
He had no desire to lose more men for what effectively was a distraction, and there was no reason for him to delay this nonsense any longer, if the squid wanted his Dragons, by the Old Man's long beard he was getting them.
…
At the center of one of the largest fleets ever gathered, stood a lone ship.
On board that ship were some of the most important figures within Westeros. Erlend Mudd, Benjen Stark, Stannis Durrandon, Mace Tyrell and Oberyn Martell.
Accompanying them were their principal Bannermen.
They were presently debating on what their plans should be, many getting impatient with the stalling tactics of the Greyjoy.
Mace looked befuddled, "How did they manage to gather so many ships, the Iron Fleet never had this many ships."
"Likely they got the wood from Essos or Beyond the Wall to build more ships. There's also the fact that every Ironmen lord has at least 50 ships or more under their command, Balon must have gathered most of them at Pyke after the attacks." Stannis explained.
"This will cripple them for centuries once this is all over." Oberyn pointed out.
"I doubt they care, they've never been much for thinking." Was the dry response from Benjen.
"You said something about wood from Essos? Are they not afraid of how such a deal would affect relations with us?" Yohn questioned Stannis.
Nodding his head, "According to a trusted man of mine. Some Magisters have been buying off Ironmen with wood and timber. Even using it to encourage them to raid their rival's ships instead." Stannis said.
"Most likely from the Three Daughters and Pentos. They've been more interested in Westerosi affairs lately. Those slavers haven't cared for our opinions for centuries, I doubt that has changed now." Oberyn pointed out.
All eyes turned towards Erlend, waiting for his judgment on the matter.
Erlend pinched the bridges of his nose, visibly annoyed at the mention of the daughters of Valyria. "They're using the Ironmen as a distraction."
"Distraction… your Majesty?" Mace asked, visibly concerned, a significant portion of House Tyrell's profits flowed in from the East after all.
"Likely they plan to rebuild the Triarchy and don't want any of us interfering."
"I thought Volantis and Braavos would object to having the Three Daughters unite. It hadn't gone well for them the last time that happened." Benjen frowned, well aware of the more infamous actions of that particular Union.
"The Sealord has been surprisingly silent on the matter, going so far as to redirect the attention of the key players in Braavos towards the Dothraki." Never mind the fact that he'd been responsible for wiping out one-third of those horse fuckers.
"So we have both Braavos and Volantis remaining silent on the matter, despite the implications."
"It seems so."
"..."
"The Lords not present during our capture of the rest of the Isles are likely to be at Pyke." Randyll interrupted the growing silence, redirecting their focus to the more crucial issue at hand.
"They are most probably Euron's key supporters in his coup, I doubt he'd have succeeded otherwise," Stannis said.
"Balon must be seething in his cells at the moment. What I'd pay to see his face at this moment." Oberyn chuckled in amusement.
Balon definitely wasn't expecting a coup, one that occurred at the height of his power.
Erlend didn't care much, as his lords began mocking the squid lord, his imprints had managed to discern Asha and Alanny's location, where they were presently held captive at Iron Holt, the seat of House Wynch.
Waldon Wynch was the first to bend the knee to Euron in canon. It didn't come as a surprise that he would do so this time around. Erlend was curious how Euron managed to secure his loyalty, but not the point of actively investigating it.
Deadman walking mattered very little to him unless they were Walkers.
Wisely the two were kept away from Pyke, as Balon's only remaining legitimate heir, she was a threat to his reign until he chose to wed her. Keeping her far enough from her father to avoid plots but close enough that she could be reached at any moment was a masterful move on his part.
Unfortunately for him, it gave Erlend the window he needed to get rid of the last two living male Greyjoys without having to worry about alienating his most powerful supporter on this Island.
Victarion had been chucked to Harras after a bit of thinking, as while he didn't need his loyalty at the moment, the lad was still the Harlaw heir. Since Rodrik's two sons had perished in the battle between the Redwyne's and the Victarion's fleet.
For that matter Erlend would have called Victarion an idiot if he hadn't known about Asha and Alanny's situation. It was the only reason that could get Rodrik to support Victarion in his bid to oust Euron.
Of course that could have easily backfired, considering the fact that Rodrik had been under the assumption that the horn might work on Erlend's dragons. It was a fine line Victarion walked.
Regardless, despite his quick thinking, the fool still fucked up by attacking his flotilla.
…
Asha Greyjoy paced around her chambers in fury. Ever since her father had declared himself King of Rock and Salt everything had gone to the shitter.
Sure the first few weeks were brilliant, bringing glories to her House never seen since the time of the Red Kraken, but now not so much.
In just a moon's turn, her brothers had caught a bad case of the dead. Her father was rotting in his dungeons and her mother had gone mad, at least more than normal.
Both her Uncles couldn't be trusted, one who had overthrown her father and the other was 'trying' to save him while declaring himself heir by fleeing like a coward instead of confronting the bastard.
Now she was slated to marry the mad Greyjoy, and she had overheard that Wynch traitor claim that Euron planned to pass her around to his supporters once she was heavy with his child.
It didn't help that word had spread of the fall of the other Islands, with only Pyke and Lonely Isle left untouched.
She frowned as she suddenly heard footsteps behind her. "Mother, you know you're not supposed to be out of bed." She said
The footsteps continued, ignoring her words completely.
"Mother this isn't a joke, you shouldn't…" She repeated as she turned around, only to freeze.
That wasn't her mother, instead, she was met with a being made out of literal shadows, who simply stared at her.
"What the fuck!" The words escaped her lips.
"Stupefy." was its response, with an odd red light following suit and hitting her body.
Shock plastered Asha's face, as her body fell onto the arms of the shadowy being.
"This feels oddly like a scene from HP wank fics…"
…
He was flying atop Jinhua, overlooking Pyke and the ships assembled below him. While Velskud and Verna flanked them on both sides.
There were no scorpions on the Isle below him. So confident were they in the powers of the horn that they left themselves defenseless should their foolhardy plan fail.
Erlend wondered if this was what an inexperienced Euron was like. His canon counterpart was far more dangerous, to the point that Erlend would've classified him as a genuine threat and hunted him to the ends of the earth.
It made him glad, he wasn't born later. If there was anyone who could escape the jaws of death like a typical anime villain then it would have been the more experienced Euron Greyjoy.
There would be no mercy, it being far too risky to allow such an enemy with so much potential to escape his grasp. This was a man who had no trouble drawing men into service despite everyone being well aware of his nature.
It was remarkable just how many major lords he'd convinced to his side. Though it helped gather all his enemies in one place, these were after all the most stubborn of the Ironmen, sticking to the 'Old Way' like a leech to blood.
At the sight of his children, instead of panicking, many of the Iron Lords gathered around the shore, rejoicing at the arrival of their new 'weapons'. His enhanced senses could faintly hear sounds of jeering and mockery coming from them.
At the head of the party was a pale figure, staring hungrily at Jinhua, which was quite unsettling. A fairly large horn was held within his arms, intricate designs and carvings could be roughly seen on it.
Euron began blowing the horn as his men cheered him on. Only to be met with a painfully awkward silence.
Once, Twice, and Thrice he blew, yet nothing happened. Not a single one of his children made a move, not when the pale fuck demanded they come to him. Not when he yelled out orders for Jinhua to unseat him. Nothing.
The murmurs began, the men shuffling and looking worriedly at their King. Staring at the three dragons in dawning horror.
Velskud, his most destructive child, made the first move, flying past Pyke and onto the assembled ships below. Flames seemed to cover his whole form, as they rushed towards the wooden ships.
And oh… did they burn.
Verna quickly followed suit, not wanting Velskud to get all the fun. A poisonous gas escaped her mouth. Covering dozens of ships, as their crews screamed in agony and pain, while their ships quickly began breaking apart.
Their bodies reacted to the gas and flesh falling off their bodies, to the point that their bones could be seen.
Only Jinhua remained, her eyes set on the gathered lords who could only stare stiffly as their men died in front of their eyes. Be it by poison or fire. A few wisely began to back away from the shore, rushing towards the nearest cover they could find.
It wasn't just the Ironmen who stared in horror at the burning fleet. His own vassals looked on, as the greatest fleet assembled since the days of the Hoares was reduced to ashes and pieces.
It finally dawned on them the devastating power Erlend held within his arms. These weren't the Dragons they read about, nor listened to from their Maesters. These were primal creatures, who were far more dangerous in comparison to the beasts that changed the tides of war in the past.
By the time his children were done with their little game, not a single soul from the opposing fleet remained standing.
Allowing his aura to cover his children, he instructed them to land on the shore, while his men did their best to make their way through the remnants of the Ironmen's fleet.
Landing on the shore, he observed the last male Greyjoy as he laughed hysterically, the lords that had chosen to remain instead of fleeing, stared resolutely at Erlend. Hatred filled their eyes, but there was a broken tinge to it.
They had gambled and lost, everyone here knew it. The already mad Kraken seemed to have turned even madder as the seconds passed by and his broken laughter spread.
"Well then, it seems you've made quite the error in judgment haven't you."
…
(Pyke)
It had been a few hours since his children had laid waste to the Iron Fleet, with both Euron and Balon taken as his captives.
They now, alongside the bound Iron lords, Captains, Reavers… whatever the fuck they called themselves were bound outside the ancient seat that was Pyke. His vassals stood around them, vigilant for any potential moves from the Ironmen.
There was bound to be an emotional idiot, who grieved the death of his kin and was likely to attempt something stupid. Then again, Dragons tended to be major deterrents, especially now that it became clear to everyone that the horn was a dud.
Adding insult to injury, Erlend had ordered the Seastone Chair to be brought out, choosing to use it as a seat, and presiding over his impromptu court.
There would be no trials, for there was no need for any.
These idiots saw no reason to hide their crimes and boasted it to whoever would listen.
Aeron Greyjoy, the fanatic one anyway, had claimed only a pious Ironman could sit on the ugly thing, not an ungodly man or woman. It didn't seem to have any problem with him sitting on it. So that was a load of horse shit.
Aside from being slightly greasy, it wasn't anything impressive to sit on, nor did it have a negative reaction towards him.
The real reason Erlend was interested in it, was the lack of magic. Everything in this world had some form of magic in it. It could be argued that non-living objects did not, but magic could at least flow through them.
This stone stood out in that neither situation could be applied to it, no matter how much of his aura or magic he subtly imbued on it, there was no result.
It was a fascinating find and compared to the Black Stone in Harrenhal, which was for all intents and purposes cleansed by his ritual and turned back into limestone and black basalt. This suggested that the Black Stone of Harrenhal did not originate from the same source that the Seastone Chair did.
Despite both of them belonging to an Ironborn. A well-made imitation perhaps?
Come to think of it, didn't that mean he'd achieved transfiguration long before he had been gifted Potterverse magic? The fact that no one made note of it and shrugged off the change was odd. Even he to a smaller part had shrugged off the change, which shouldn't have been possible due to the strength of his spiritual power.
Some research had to be done on the matter, he couldn't afford to ignore such a find and he had to uncover what other effects it may have had on him. This stone was important for the trajectory of this world, at the least, it might help him suppress the magic practitioners of this world more easily.
…
All the Drowned Priests had naturally been put to the sword. Not a single one was left alive, while most of the more extreme followers of the Old Ways had been on those ships, there were a few stragglers here and there who had to be hunted down by his men.
This has taken hours, to the point that he now just wanted to get this shitshow over and done with. Starting with the destruction of Pyke.
It was admittedly fascinating watching his children work their magic.
All three flew up into the air and surrounded the ancestral seat of House Greyjoy. For the first time since the Dance of the Dragons, a castle was burned down by Dragonfire.
He watched as his children got to work, with Balon crying out in impotent fury and grief as his childhood home was burned bit by bit. Perhaps his children wanted to pour salt into the already open wounds of the Ironmen because they certainly took their time doing so.
All that was flammable was the first to go, catching fire and turning to cinder. This included supplies, bridges, and the green lichen that covered the walls of the castle.
The towers were next to react, beginning to crack and melt, as the Dragonflames heated up. Rock crumbled, as the keeps and towers began to shake, his children targeting their very foundation. Velskud was the first to grow impatient as the potency of his flames increased.
The keep now visibly melting to all who could see.
Verna was next, her poisonous breath eroding the very stones that held up the towers. The Sea Tower was the first to go, crumbling into itself as it broke apart, with a significant portion of it falling into the sea below. Next were the various towers that littered the castle.
A beautiful sight, Erlend admitted inwardly, paying no heed as the Kitchen Keep broke apart.
Everyone else merely stared in horrified fascination as one of the oldest castles in Westeros was destroyed right in front of them. It was so old that no one even remembered its original builders and rulers.
The Bloody Keep was next to go. Within its hall, was where the sons of Bernarr II Justman had been slaughtered, and their pieces sent back to their grieving father.
Finally, The Great Keep of Pyke went down as the stone stacks and unstable earth broke from under it, reuniting it with the rest of the castle.
"Wasn't that a sight for sore eyes!" exclaimed a chuckling Erlend, amusement dripped from his words, much to the horror of his captives.
…
Euron Greyjoy was by far one of his most dangerous enemies. This was a man who somehow got his hands on a fucking Dragon Horn, had they worked, Erlend would have been in a bit of a pickle.
His children posed no threat to him, as he was convinced they would be able to break free from its control had it somehow actually worked. The same could not be said about his vassals, as it would reveal his powers and guarantee that his reign would become far more troublesome than it had to be.
It was hard to trust a man you suspected of being able to subvert your free will.
Speaking of Euron, the man was staring vacantly at Erlend, confusion marred his face, every time he looked at him.
Were there some truths to the theories that Euron was trained by Bloodrivers? Mayhaps he somehow got glimpses of the past that he could not handle and thus broke him in a way.
Balon on the other hand was glaring at Erlend, not that it bothered him all that much. The man knew the risks of going against him and still chose to do so.
You had to admire the balls on him.
He was a fool, but at least one who didn't back down easily. No matter how retarded the decision might be.
Yohn approached him, carrying a crown made out of driftwood, it was an ugly thing truth be told. The crown was supposed to be broken up and cast into the sea after its bearer died.
Erlend stared right into Balon's eyes as waited for Velskud to fly close. His most vicious child sensed his intentions from a mile away.
As he sensed his son nearby, Erlend casually tossed the crown nonchalantly into the air, only for Velskud to swoop in and breathe out his flames, completely burning Balon's symbol of power right before his eyes.
He motioned for his men to bring the would-be king closer.
He looked around as his lords and Bannermen surrounded them in a circle. Boxing the rest of the bound Iron Lords in a tight nit group.
"I'm curious Balegh." Deliberately butchering the squid's name. "What exactly made you think you could win in a war against a united Westeros?"
"Your dynasty fell once, it can fall again." Balon spat out, his voice hoarse. In response, the man holding him knocked on his head and sent him tumbling straight into the mud.
Raising his eyebrow, Erlend stared silently at the squid as he struggled to get up.
"Maybe." Erlend finally responded. "My House as you know, has risen and fallen, time and time again. The difference between mine and yours is that mine always clawed its way back up. While yours pilfered its way to glory. A house of glorified thieves."
"We Do Not Sow!" Balon stubbornly said to Erlend.
"That's what you're going with. It's quite obvious, isn't it? Hell, your ancestral home was a shining example of that. It wasn't even built by a Greyjoy."
"I reckon they killed its original rulers, your Majesty." William Dustin snarked while the lords around him chuckled at his words.
"Judge as you will. You Greenlanders will never understand our ways." Balon snarled.
"You mean the so-called 'Old Way'." The dismissive tone in Erlend's voice earned him an enraged snarl from Balon.
"Let's cut the bullshit, shall we squid. Every single drowned priest within these Isles is dead. Cut down by the men around you."
"The drowned god will have his due." Warned the fool.
"That's cute, I'm sure he'll be delighted to meet you. The man that was responsible for the end of the 'Old Ways'."
That shut the fucker up real quick.
"You… You…" Euron interrupted the two, getting Erlends attention while Balon sneered at his brother.
"Oh, the Mad Kraken finally speaks," Erlend said.
"You can't exist. You don't belong." Euron rasped out, staring in confusion at the Mudd King. "Your line should have ended long ago."
The man mumbled to himself, speaking in gibberish and whatnot as he stared uncomprehendingly at Erlend.
"Euron." Balon gritted his teeth at the sight of his insane brother. "Shut the fuck up you traitorous cunt."
Ignoring his brothers. Euron simply laughed hysterically, his mumblings getting worse and worse, as chuckled at everything.
"This doesn't make sense… Everything is all wrong. No. I am not wrong. You're Wrong…" Crow's eye let out. "He promised… He lied…"
Getting irritated with the insane fellow, Erlend motioned for one of his men to grab hold of the hysterical Greyjoy.
Surprising everyone, Euron lunged at the poor man, grabbing his sword despite being bound.
Immediately everyone moved to stop him, assuming his target would be the Mudd King, only to stare in surprise as the still laughing kraken plunged the sword deep into his brother's heart.
"Dead… Big Bale is dead… Making things go right…" Swaying as he stared vacantly into the shocked eyes of his brother.
"What a nice family you have Balon," Erlend said, getting up and unsheathing Ardent.
Casually making his way towards the two brothers, Erlend observed the dying Balon who struggled against Euron as he continued to mumble.
His eyes went wide as Erlend raised his saber, the cruel smirk on his face visible to the last King of Rock and Salt.
Just like that, Euron Greyjoy, one of the most feared men in this world had to offer, lost his head. His corpse's blood practically gushed all over the dying squid. Before it fell to the ground with a thud.
Balon lay there, his body listless and unmoving. Eyes marred with confusion and mixed emotions. Joy at the death of the traitor, Despair at what seemed to be the end of his house. Hatred for the man that played a big part in it.
Finally, he turned in resigned acceptance of his fate.
With a signal from his hands, bodies began to fall, as Iron lord after another began to fall. Their corpses spilled blood on the ground around them.
Never before had so many lords lost their heads in one sitting.
It was a terrible thing to behold for a King. To watch as his realm came undone. Unable to do anything to prevent it. The last pillars of the 'Old Ways' crumbling to nothingness like his ancestral seat.
It was cruel and a terrible thing to behold, but it sent a message to his would-be enemies.
The lords gathered watched in horror and understanding of the fate that would befall them should they resist.
Erlend for his part merely watched in grim satisfaction as his plans came to fruition.
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