Trap

To all people out there, if you would be so kind and show me some of the more "realistic" GOT ff please. Preferably more than 150 k words. I really am looking for something nice to read.

Now, to all the rest who still didn't drop the story (if there is anyone left) let's get back to it (•‿•).

P.s Do you really think I would hurt Mamma Dustin? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

- - -

It took Brendan and his men whole four days of riding the horses hard to get back to Neverwinter, and the news he received weren't able to bring any optimism to the situation at hand.

What Qyburn told him made him only angrier for believing in an Ironborn.

This simply didn't make sense, Rodrik in his memory wasn't like that!

What a fucked up idiot did he had to be thinking his life would be the same as the original books or the show.

His unwaivering faith in his superior knowledge came and bit him in the ass.

When he was still in his world he read a lot of fan fictions and saw all the "knowledge gurus" teaching authors how person A should behave, or how person B wouldn't do that because the books or whatever description was set in stone and nothing could change it.

For him, it was the same like commenting on any other sport game where everyone in front of TV miraculously was a world class sportsman knowing better what to do. It just didn't make any sense.

At the time he thought like that as well. Yet now he knew that no one can predict human behavior and everything is possible, you just can't take everything under consideration.

What he had to do is something unrealistic, he had to get his mother back.

Since Rodrik already made his move sending him ultimatum ordering him to attack Old Wyk, something that was previously promised between them already Brendan knew there was more to it.

"What can be his end game here..." Brendan wandered out loud deep in his thoughts.

"The same as it is for everyone else." Qyburn came closer to the map from outside the solar's door.

"Which is?" Lord Dustin looked at his mentor.

"Power, gold, status... take your pick."

"He has all of that already, how would he ..." Brendan stopped.

His thoughts drifted to the most controversial character in the TV series.

Ramsay Snow, the bastard of Dreadfort.

Brendan didn't read the books, apparently the man was even darker there, but one story which Brendan did read about him made his blood turn colder.

From what he knew Ramsay abducted old Lady of Hornwood, trying to deny the same future of happening was one of the reasons Brendan stubbornly petitioned for the weak family to joined the alliance.

Then after marriage to her, where she was literally under the sword, he made her sign a document confirming him as her heir.

Then, unfortunately the old Lady still died starved to death after eating her own fingers... Colorful love story nevertheless.

Now, the honorable, smart and clearly peace loving in the eyes of everyone Ironborn, if the words can go in the same sentence could be thinking of doing the same.

"We will proceed with the attack on the Old Wyk." Brendan's firm voice brought some relief to Qyburn as the boy got his confidence back.

"What if it's a trap?" Ser Hightower asked.

"Not "if" Ser, it will be one."

"And we will still go?" Brienne was a bit afraid.

"Of course we will. Qyburn, how many men are we looking at?" Brendan didn't usually take part in gathering of the information.

"Old Wyk has three Houses. Drumm, Goodbrother of Shatterstone and Stonehouse. In total we are looking at about 150 ships and 7000 men." Qyburn pointed at the approximate castles location.

"With our numbers we should be able to take them on, they shouldn't know about our real numbers." Sandor said already thirsty for blood.

"I do not simply want to take them on." Brendan added "Each man holding a weapon will die, the rest should be captured and transported here. The island should be a graveyard after we're finished with it." his word was final, and nobody had anything against it.

The council took them most of the day, during the night Brendan attended the funeral of the killed guards.

Standing next to the torches Lord Dustin looked around the widowed women, some of them holding small children, some of them weeping quietly.

"As we stand here I want to promise all of you that we will have our revenge. We will bring down every Castle, kill everyone who wronged us, they will know that our anger and hatred can only be erased with their blood." Brendan's cracking, full of determination voice filled the space.

Grabbing a torch he lighted up the dry wood.

It's been already a week since his mother was taken, up till now only some of the forces arrived in Neverwinter, 5000 Ryswell men was the first to come, followed by the Glenmore and Hornwoods.

Brendan alone mustered 16000 men taking the full force of the Neverwinter Legion and half of the guards from the city garrison.

He couldn't, and wouldn't wait any longer.

"Lord Davos, Ser Hightower, give the orders for the men to board the ships, if we're lucky we will even get a bonus." Lord Dustin smiled thinking about the fleet that was soon to attack the Malister's.

"What should I tell Lord Stark and other alliance Houses when they come?" the steward of Neverwinter castle asked before Brendan left.

"The houses are to wait and meet us on Harlaw Island. We will storm it together, let's wait for word from Wolffang and his wargs."

"Stay safe my Lord." Qyburn hugged the boy.

"You too uncle..." grabbing his helmet and swords Brendan left the room.