58 2/2

At this point Zarin speak up. "The reason is about the speedy production of books. While you've written your share of letters and messages Alya, the art of literature and transcribing is a tedious one. Weeks or months of work, where any mistake or mishap can ruin all that progress." At this point one of the disciples raised the press, letting the alchemist pull back the slide then carefully unbind the piece of parchment and examined it in the light. "With this books won't be limited to just the elite of this world, with the common folk given a chance to learn for themselves."

"My that would be frustrating for the Maesters I can imagine." Alya chuckled. "Considering the vast collection of books within the Citadel, the idea of even a fraction of that knowledge being copied and shared drive them mad with rage."

The remark made the alchemist smirk. "I was young when I went to Old Town seeking out the Maesters. The lobby scribe was quite surprised seeing a dirty travel worn boy approach him, then simply request to join as a novice." The memory made a fierce gleam show in his eyes before he set the parchment in his hands down. "Yet they held me in comtempt…"

The Maester lashed the back of his hand across the boy's face, knocking him to the ground. "Once more you show your arrogance boy." The old man muttered coldly before snatching the books and notes the boy had on the desk. "Always you question what we teach…you doubt the gift of knowledge!" The boy wiped the hint of blood off his lip, eyes glaring sharply at the man.

"You are banned from the archives for a month and you'll do double chores for a week, boy. Perhaps that will discipline you." Moving to leave the room, he gave a final look at the novice. "I question why we let a lowborn like you here. If you have any sense in you…you should just leave and accept your place in the world."

With the door slammed shut, the boy shifted up to stand before fixing his novice robes. Moving over to his desk, he'd slip one hand under it to pull the black leather journal he had hidden. "They all say the same…accept the way things are. I wonder…how will they feel when I tear it down?"

Zarin nodded to himself on that memory, his gaze looking back at his students and fellow Grim. They all knew the man had reminisced, a habit he had during such passionate moments. "The past is the past. What matters now is our actions today…" Pausing he'd continue to speak. "Alya, you will work on gathering information with our informants. I want to know what is going on within the Red Keep and all the districts before we make our introduction."

"Of course. I will also send messages to my supporters in Dorne. If enough mutterings about the civil war fill Sunspear, my father and uncle will have to take quicker action with their own plans."

"A wise plan. We need the Martells to tip their hand so you can take control from them. It is key to our success." Zarin remarked. "That aside, we must be prepared for our demonstration in the coming month. How has the weapon designed gone so far?"

"Very successful, your original designs didn't need as much modifying compared to the press machine. We've already created working examples, which only need your approval." One of the disciples answered.

"Very good. As questionable as it may seem, these weapons will indeed save more lives in the end." The alchemist's gaze drifted into the storage space, a faint grin on his face as he could see the outline of said weapons in the darkness. "Like the dragons of old…only of metal and wood. Armies will tremble at their roar and castles will crumble under their might…" He muttered to himself before looking back to his assistants. "Let us begin."

…

Red Keep, The Throne Room – Tyrion

It had been a while since most of the Lannister family had gathered together, though it was simply a mix of timing and luck. From his seat beside the Iron Throne, Tyrion looked across the large throne room at all the gathered ranging from his family, members of the Small Council and the usual courtly audience. The dwarf's gaze drifted to the Iron Throne itself, with Joffrey sitting on the high metal seat.

The young King was sitting back as comfortably as he could on the metal throne, right hand resting on one of the pommels that made up the armrest. Wrapped around said hand was a soft leather hand brace, designed to ease the ache in his recovering limb. Despite this and doses of painkillers, Joffrey always grumbled about subtle pain, which the Grand Maester called 'phantom aches'. It was more of a mental than physical injury, trauma of the incident making Joffrey continue to feel discomfort. The boy king had picked out his usual regalia though instead of the Lannister red and gold, it was black and gold for House Baratheon. Despite the fact they at war with both brothers of his late 'father', the boy seemed to respect Robert's House more than his own. Even the banners along the right side of the throne room even had the rearing stag hanging above their heads.

On the opposite side was Cersei who stood as close as possible to the Throne. Ever an alluring sight in her red and golden gown, she had a calm look on her face though her eyes showed a hint of anger in them. The last few months she had been separate from Joffrey to avoid muddling his tutoring and given little say in political matters. While she had been obeying Tywin's directions, there was an air discontent about her.

Beside her sitting on a regal carved chair was Tywin, who kept a sharp eye on his daughter. It was obvious he didn't like this sudden gathering since it was unplanned, though he seemed to allow it just to keep Joffrey in line. With him being King Regent, he had to find moments like this to pacify the young king, make him feel like he had some authority still.

At the forefront of the Iron Throne was Jaime and the Kingsguard, the eldest Lannister brother wearing the armor of the Lord Commander of the royal knights dutifully. His eyes had a serious gleam in them, a look the young knight had had ever since the fateful family meeting after Lord Stark's trial.

Along the sides of the hall were the Gold Cloaks, with Bronn among them along Tyrion's side. With some insistence, the sellsword had donned the iconic colored cloak, though his slight movements displayed his annoyance.

On the opposing were was the members of the Small Council. Lord Baelish, Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle gathered together. The three quietly muttered between each other, either scheming, bantering…or perhaps both at the same time. All of them were under close watch by Tywin after all, even Baelish who was publicly honored for 'exposing' the Stark conspiracy. They all had their own motives in mind, though everyone did in these opportune times.

"Even those across the Narrow Sea…" Tyrion muttered to himself, wondering how long it took these so called 'Silent Monks' to prepare themselves. From what the messenger had detailed, they were a group of cloaked occults from the far east of Essos, coming from the exotic yet vague lands beyond the Bone Mountains and Jade Sea. Considering he had never heard of such a group despite all his studies, the promises of gifted wealth did have the dwarf curious at the least. Still, he had made sure the Watch and Kingsguard were prepared for any surprises.

From the far end of the hall, the heavy doors opened up before a courtier entered with nine hooded robed figures following in two single filed lines. Their garments were plain in design, with each robe being a different color to tell each occultist apart. They wore their hoods low and had a facemask cloth covering their mouths and noses, obscuring their faces. The cloaked men carried along an assortment of chests, ranging from small trunks to hand caskets. Leading the group was a black robed occultist who carried a long case, fitting for a sword from Tyrion's judgement. Once the group neared they'd spread out in a forward line before their leader gave a low bow.

"I am honored that I and my humble group could have this rare audience." The man spoke out, his voice having a thick accent that rolled over each word. "When word reached our ears that the venerable House of Lions has claimed the Iron Throne, we saw fit to pause our journey to visit."

The flattery did draw a small smirk to Joffrey. "Kind words. While the Seven Kingdoms are facing…a divide of late, we don't let such matters hinder our hospitality." The boy formally greeted.

"Yes, especially when said guests bring so many gifts." Tywin plainly stated. "As the serving King Regent, it is my duty to advise my grandson and have a final say on official matters." He'd glance over to Joffrey, the boy glaring at him slightly.

"Speaking of these gifts, may we see just what you have brought." Tyrion quickly stated. "While your arrival was on short notice, the guard and port master did inspect you beforehand…claiming you've brought a small fortune in fact."

A small chuckle did escape from the man as he'd gestured to his companions. The heavy chests were set down then opened revealing gold, silver and copper coins while the caskets contained jewelry and gems. The sight of such wealth drew whispers from the gathered hall, even the Lannisters were intrigued by what they saw. "Humble as we are, we understand the value of such material things. In our travels we've collected much, saving it for an opportune meeting such as this." The lead monk explained.

"A very impressive gesture, one that we welcome." Cersei coyly remarked, having stepped up a bit to eye the jewelry within one of the caskets. Jaime stood close by, still on guard among the cloaked men, though his gaze focused on the black clothed one. She'd pick out one ruby ring, even trying it on to see how well it fitted.

Even Tyrion got up to examine the lavish gifts, reaching into a small chest to examine the coins, a colorful mix of currencies from the Free and Slave cities of Essos. "While these gifts are generous, I have a feeling there is more to this than you are letting on."

While the facemask hid the man's expression, Tyrion could tell a grin crossed the man's face. "More of a demonstration of what I and my men can offer." He formally stated, though this time his voice now lacking the exaggerated accent, having the more familiar hints of Westerosi to it. "The fact is, I know the royal family isn't in a position of strength despite how you act." He'd gesture out to the gathered throne room. "Just my visit here shows it…this courtly gathering is little more than a distraction to the threats closing in from all directions."

Joffrey frowned as the man's words had taken a sudden turn now. "Are you implying that I am a weak ruler, monk? That my family can't keep a few lowly traitors from bringing chaos to the realm?"

The man bowed his head slightly. "Not at all. You after all have the advantage of defense along with hosting the continent's most well-armed and trained soldiers. Perhaps you can hold the line against Lord Robb and Lord Renly…yet can you do it when Lord Stannis brings a fully armed fleet to your very harbor?"

That detail did draw chatter from the crowd, since everyone knew of the Baratheon having taken most of the royal fleet under his control. The Lannisters only had a handful of ships, only enough to barely protect the routes through Blackwater Bay and it's harbor.

"From my understanding Stannis doesn't have the men to mount an attack by sea." Tywin spoke up, calming the chatter. While the late Lord Stark has falsely claimed he is the true ruler to the Iron Throne, he hasn't gained as much support compared to Renly."

A low chuckle escaped from the monk. "That is true my lord…however we both know he has others to seek out aid. After all, the Stark sisters…hmm…are such powerful bargaining chips in the right hands…"

"For an outsider you seem to know far more about the politics in Westeros." Tyrion sternly spoke up. "So why don't we get to the point stranger, with you showing us your face and who you really are."

"Unless you prefer we yank that hood off for you." Jaime muttered, giving a rare show of wit in his threat.

There was a tense pause at that point, the monk remaining silent the whole time. All of the other 'monks' remained calm except for the one on the right of the black robed one, shifting and glancing slightly about in obvious nervousness. "Fair enough…best we move onto a proper introduction…"

Tugging back his robe hood, revealing black hair and a dark leather eyepatch covering over his left eye. His face was roguishly handsome, his beard having been trimmed down slightly since the battle against the Fury a week back. The wide-eyed expressions that spread among the court showed how many recognized the infamous Iron Islander, since his face was on every wanted board on both continents. Cersei backed away slightly surprised yet intrigued by this reveal. Tyrion though had a more guarded reaction, expression stern as he moved aside more quickly.

"Euron Greyjoy, captain of the Silence at-" Yet in the middle of his greeting, Jaime had his sword drawn, blade right at the pirate's throat. Bronn was just as quick to signal the guard to surround the fake monks with their spears out at them. Despite it all Euron didn't pause in his speaking. "…your service."

Worried muttering filled the hall as the noble onlookers seemed almost in a panic, though Joffrey spoke up. "Silence! There is no reason to be fearful now." He sternly ordered before an amused smirk crossed his lips. "I know plenty would pay a fortune for your death, considering how much of a scourge you are all across the Narrow Sea."

The pirate shrugged at the claim. "That is true your grace…though if you kill me it will simply delay your own family's end." He simply stated, his words making Jaimie's sword press more to his throat.

"You think you can bargain with us that easily?" He muttered to Euron threateningly.

Cersei spoke up. "Whatever the case, perhaps it's worth hearing what he has to say." She stated before glancing over to her son. "If he can't offer anything then he and his men will face the King's justice."

Tywin was silent at the proposal, though even he seemed curious about the pirate's intentions. Joffrey soon nodded in agreement. "Fair course mother. Very well Greyjoy, tell us why we should spare you?"

Nodding, the pirate moved one hand up to gently nudge Jaime's blade away from his throat, much to the knight's annoyance. "Like I said, you may be able to hold out against your enemies on land, but by sea you have little defense." He clearly explained. "Considering I was able to sneak in by simply 'borrowing' a small trade vessel, you lack any real defense out in the water."

"Yet as my grandfather said, Stannis lacks the soldiers to attack us. Unless he has hired a few thousand mercenaries and gained new supporters, then I doubt he could break our defenses."

Euron nodded in agreement. "True. Even I wouldn't want to brave such an attack without some advantage." A faint grin though hinted his face. "However about a half a week back I had a chance encounter with Stannis' flagship, The Fury, heading northward for White Harbor no doubt to return the Stark daughters to their worried elder brother."

This news wasn't unexpected, though mutterings began to spread. Joffrey had a hint of worry on his face, knowing full well of an alliance being formed. "Surely Stannis wouldn't be foolish enough to return the Starks back without guarantees." He tried to argue.

"Well…considering the Witcher was on board and nearly single handedly took on a whole long ship of my men…I'd say the girls were on that war galley." Euron simply explained.

Hearing about Geralt drew a smirk from Jaime, considering the Witcher had achieved another impossible feat. "Seems you and your men greatly misjudged who you were going up against. If a ship full of men can't best just one man, then they must be quite lacking in battle" He jested, though he didn't let his taunting distract from the subject at hand. "If this is true though, then Stannis could gain more support from the Storm Lords with close ties to the Starks. Enough to attack from land and sea even…"

"So in the end you are informing us of a threat we were expecting." Tywin spoke up, ending the muttering. "That doesn't change the matter on your fate Euron, in my eyes at least."

"King Regent Tywin." Euron gave a short nod to. "The issue is you require a fleet to protect this city, though from my understanding you don't have the resources or time to build one nor the coin to hire one from the Free Cities." The mention of lack of coin did make the old Lannister give a narrow glare, that detail not being expected. "I however can provide you a fleet."

Tyrion scoffed at the idea. "Of pirates? I doubt the collection of ruffians and ships will do well against a professional battle fleet that Stannis has at his command." The dwarf argued.

"Of course not, even I know my current…companions, wouldn't stand a chance in this case." The pirate shook his head. "What I am meaning is the Iron Fleet, the united force of the Iron Islanders."

"So…trade your band of pirates for a hateful band of raiders." Tyrion stated before glancing about at his family. "That doesn't sound that better of a tradeoff."

"True, but Euron has a point." Tywin muttered. "The Ironborn are masters when it comes to battling at sea, dedicated for ship to ship combat. They preventively attack our forces while they were anchored, leaving them defenseless. Even the ships that did set sail couldn't outmatch the navigation and ranged skills Iron islanders have. Our guest here planned it all, an efficient and ruthless strategy."

"At my brother Balon's orders." Euron simply stated. "Which my other brother Victarion lead the attack. Surely you can't blame me for being tactful under the orders of my…former liege." His tone was jesting, though had a hint of distaste to his brothers. "Despite that blow, that Rebellion was doomed to fail despite my urging. I'm sure if the Iron Isles had succeeded in their Rebellion, that attack would be sung very much like the Rains of Castamere."

The mention of Tywin's total and brutal victory over the rebellious House Reyne brought a hint of a smirk to the man's face. "The victor does write the history as the Maesters say." He remarked. "So then…how do you plan to deliver us this Iron Fleet? From my understanding you were exiled by your own family, under the threat of death. Hardly a strong position."

"From a certain point of view." Euron shrugged. "You see I understand my family very well. Balon is a bitter and predictable man while Victarion is unshakingly dutiful to our ways. With the conflict going on Balon will gather up Ironborn Houses to lash out against the North, thinking their defenses weakened with them marching south."

"Yet with them allied with Stannis, they can keep more men within the North. Any attack by the Ironborn will not go unnoticed." Jaime remarked.

"In turn it could put the Iron Isles at risk of being attacked once more…if Stannis does overcome us." Tyrion added. "He has long seen the Greyjoys as a threat and always had been against Robert not removing them fully from their position of power."

At this point Joffrey understood the man's intentions. "You plan to replace Lord Balon and give us the support of the Iron Isles then? Doesn't sound like a simple task."

"Oh this is something I have been planning for some time, only waiting for the right conditions to make my move." Euron replied back with a small grin. "Yet I can tell you all have doubts on my trustworthiness and capabilities."

"Considering your reputation, it's reasonable to question that." Tyrion offhandedly remarked, with Jaime and Tywin nodding in stern agreement.

"Well my current gifts are sincere." Euron gestured to the laid-out riches before drifting his gaze. "However I have something special for you Lord Tywin, something that your family has lost and been searching for a long time." He'd nudge the long wooden case at his foot. "If you'd be kind to look inside that…"

There was a pause before Tyrion nodded to Bronn. "Captain, bring it to the King Regent if you please."

The sellsword sighed, though obeyed as he'd move over to pick up the case all while giving a sharp glare at Euron. The pirate kept that confident look on his face as Bronn moved over to Tywin, holding the case out so the Lord could open it. Undoing the latches, Tywin opened the casing before shifting a piece of fine red fabric aside, revealing what lay under it. Because of his position it was hard to see what he saw, yet whatever it was had the normally composed man in shock. Curious looks showed in the other Lannisters as Tywin gave an unsteady breath as he calmed himself before closing the case.

"Anyone who isn't a Lannister, member of the Small Council or our…guest is to leave this hall immediately." He spoke loudly out to the crowd before looking to a confused Bronn. "You will escort Captain Euron's men to the yard to wait for his return. They are not to be harmed unless they resist."

"As you wish my lord." Bronn muttered, letting Tywin take the case. "You heard the King Regent! You're all dismissed! Men, let's get our 'visitors' out as well."

Under the sellsword's directions, the throne room was quickly cleared out. Once the heavy doors closed shut, Euron give a small sigh before pacing over to one large chest, shutting the lid closed. "Mind if I sit? Feel like I've been standing for ages right now." No one spoke against his request, so the pirate sat down. "So then Lord Tywin, I take my final offering is suitable to you."

"Before we say anything more, I'd like to know WHAT is in that case to begin with." Tyrion argued.

"I have to agree with the Hand." Varys calmly stated. "Since you have let us of the Small Council remain, we'd like to be informed on what this man has…presented to influence you so deeply."

Tywin didn't answer as he'd look at everyone before at last speaking. "All of you know that House Lannister once had a Valyrian Sword, one of the last swords a King of Westeros commissioned from Valyria before the Doom and Aegon's Conquest."

"You mean Brightroar?" Jaime remarked, Tyrion also giving an interested look. Both of them knew well of the tales of their family blade, a priceless lost heirloom. "I know that Tommen the Second took it with him a century after the Doom of Valyria, only for him and the expedition to disappear. Uncle Gerion was the last to seek for it, only to disappear as well."

Tyrion nodded at the mention of their long lost relative. "I always liked Gerion, the most free spirited of us all. At the least he made birthdays worthwhile."

Cersei rolled her eyes at such talk. "Kind as he was, he always was a fantastical idealist. Too lost in talk of glory and adventure. That kind of thinking is what surely got him killed."

For a moment Tyrion was ready to argue though just the glare of Tywin silenced him. "The fact is Brightroar has been lost for centuries…until now."

Opening the chest revealed its contents, a bastard sword with a silver blade rippled with rainbow color as the light of the hall touched across it. The cross guard was long, engraved with ornate weaving detail while sturdy spikes were at the ends. The grip was fitted with deep red leather, no doubt having been refitted after being lost for so long. Lastly was the pommel which bore the head of a roaring lion, the detail unfaded thanks to the mythical metal it was made out of.

Everyone except Euron gawked at the sight of the Valyrian blade, Jaime the most amazed by the sight. Joffrey had a wide grin seeing the sword, having too heard of the tales of the family sword. "Amazing…its more beautiful than what the books described." He muttered before looking to the pirate. "How did you find this? If my ancestor did die in the cursed shores of Valyria, then that means you had to enter such deadly land."

"I did in fact brave that ruined place." Euron simply stated. "It's a long tale of darkness and madness, one suited for another time. The fact is me and my crew found many things there, that blade included. It was at the ship graveyard, the first hurtle scouring Valyria. It seems both your ancestor and uncle fell prey to it, trapping them there. There were old remains of a camp and in turn…remains and belongings."

"Untouched? So whatever killed them didn't take their belongings." Tyrion questioned.

Euron chuckled. "Hand, the things that live in that ruined peninsula don't care for materials or trinkets. Fresh meat and warm blood are what they crave. That aside there is poisoned air, tainted water and plants warped over the centuries that are adept at killing a curious adventurer." He'd shrug. "I doubt a handful of bones mean much to you, so I feel the sword is proof enough of your uncle's fate."

"If so, he must have found it before his end." Jaime remarked, hesitantly reaching for the sword before looking up at Tywin.

"Take it. If there is anyone more suited to wield it, it is you Jaime." Tywin assured, a rare hint of pride in his words.

Joffrey nodded in agreement, an eager grin on his face. "Indeed. A proper weapon for a Kingsguard and royal general."

The Lannister knight at last gripped the blade, lifting it out of the case to hold upward. He'd shift his wrist about to test the weight of the weapon, seeming surprised by how light the bastard sword was. Moving back for some space, he'd give some test swings with one hand then before, getting a full idea on its balance. "It's perfect. Almost feels like it was meant for me." He muttered as he stared at the blade.

"A worthy blade to use against that cursed Witcher I say." Joffrey chuckled, though Jaime's expression showed no eagerness at such a clash. He knew it would take more than a Valyrian sword to beat Geralt's fighting skill and mystical abilities.

"Historic of a moment as this may be, we should continue with our business." Euron spoke up, gaining everyone's attention.

At this point Lord Baelish would speak. "It's obvious your intentions aren't for wealth, considering the treasure you've given the crown and the return of this sword…which if I'm correct could fund a small army."

"A logical if obvious observation." The Greyjoy jested. "Fact is, wealth to me is just a tool and luxury. Unlike others I don't hoard it for the sake of keeping it, but to use it for times like this."

"So then your interest is in power then?" Cersei asks coyly.

The pirate bowed his head slightly, one hand gesturing in a bow like manner. "As the fair lady says. After all, money does not earn you a place in history's pages."

"So then what are your terms then if you plan to ally with us?" Joffrey directly quested as the boy moved up to return to his seat on the Iron Throne. "I can say the position as Master of Ships is open, a suitable position for you on the Small Council."

"A good start I'd say. However we are talking about putting the whole of the Iron Isles into your allegiance." Euron replied back before a sly grin crossed his face. "No…what I'm interested in is much bigger…grander." The way he spoke and the cunning glare in his eye made everyone tense for a moment. That look was something all Lannisters understood…a gaze of a man with raw ambition and the wit to achieve it by any means.

"Very well Euron Greyjoy. Let us discuss the terms of this…alliance." Tywin stated as he'd returned to his seat.

As everyone else returned to their seats, Jaime and Tyrion did quietly speak to each other. "This shouldn't be happening." The elder brother muttered.

"Try to dissuade father. As soon as he saw that sword, Euron had instantly won his respect." Tyrion sighed as he'd get into his seat.

Jaime stood by, keeping his gaze set on Euron who looked at Cersei. She in turn had a sly look in her eyes, having an impressed interest in the man as well. Normally he'd feel a low jealous with such shared looks, but right then he felt indifference ever since the night after Lord Stark's trial.

"Lancel admitted he'd allured to me, despite our…relations. I've refused his advances, though he only continues to try and prove himself to me. That is why I've tried sending him away." Cersei whispered before caressing his face. "You and our children matter to me…as they and I should be to you." Her fingers traced down to his jaw, gently hilting it to make his eyes meet her's. "Promise me…protect us all no matter the odds."

That last words sounded more like a demand than a kind request. It made sense what Geralt had said in this very same room. As the rest of his family spoke with Euron, he knew right then that his family was continuing down a dangerous path…one that he couldn't prevent.

…

An Hour Later, Yard Outside the Red Keep

The first mate paced about tensely, on edge between the passiveness of the rest of the crew and the looks of the guards. Part of him wondered how they were still alive, having literally walked into the lions den like this. "The former mate was right…" He muttered to himself before snapping his gaze up to the doors leading into the lavish keep. Strolling out was Euron, the one-eyed captain having a small grin on his face. "Umm���glad to see you're alright captain. Did the…uhh…meeting go well?"

Euron gave a small smirk as he approached, giving a short gesture to the rest of his men. "The Lannisters and I have come to an agreement. Between the generous donation to their coffers and the return of Brightroar, not even the stern Tywin can ignore my reliability." The group was soon being escorted to the gates leading into the city.

Lightly rubbing his burn scarred face, the first mate tugged his robe hood back over his head. "So then what is the plan from here?"

"To Pyke in the Iron Isles. My brother Balon will no doubt be having all the captains gathered for his short-sighted plans." Approaching the gates, the guards opened them up as the disguised pirates began to make their long trek back to the docks and to their 'borrowed' ship to return to the Silence far out into the bay.

"We just entered one monster's den to sail off into another…" The First Mate muttered nervously, drawing a laugh from Euron.

"Very true, yet with risk comes great reward." He replied with a grin. "We strode into the lions den…and soon they lay at our feet. They think they have us in control…loyal to them…" As they had reached down the hill, he'd grin as he looked up at the Red Keep. "They will be helpless when our boot presses down onto their very necks…and breaks them." However, he'd chuckle as a thought came to him. "Then again they may just tear themselves apart in their drive for power and survival. Ah…such is the ways of family."

The bold words made the First Mate gulp, never expecting such bold words even from the captain. Yet the more he served directly with him…he understood that Euron had no fear after all he had done. For such confident ego and ruthless cunning would make anyone believe that they feel godlike. Which with every passing act made the Crow's Eye seemed all the more…divine…or in this case unholy with his dark nature.

One that wouldn't stop until it consumed everything this world had to offer…

…

Notice: Work is ever a pitfall for me, though I hope this bigger chapter makes up for the wait. The pieces continue to be set in place and form the new timeline of this story. Also I do know that Brightroar is meant to be a greatsword, but I changed it to a bastard sword to be more fitting of a weapon for Jaime. Considering how buried the lore of this Valyrian sword is, a little creative freedom doesn't hurt.

Anyway next chapter we return to Essos as Ciri and Dany play their own game of politics with the Thirteen and the Warlocks. Expect a few colorful characters to be fleshed out, among other things.

As always, share a review, chat on the forum or even send a message to me!