The Kraken and the Lion

Chapter 34

by Technomad

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

Aboard the Black Wind, Asha glanced up at the flags in the rigging, checking the wind's direction and velocity. She had learned to gauge these things to a nicety in many years at sea. She nodded to herself. The wind was almost straight out of the north, and while it was fresh and strong, it wasn't strong enough to imperil their ships. Almost perfect for a battle, she thought. Neither side had the wind-gauge, as yet.

The watcher up in the crows'-nest called down: "Signal from the Silence, ma'am!" After a moment's pause, the watcher called: "Signal says: 'Main squadron to alter course two points to port. Ironborn squadron to alter course one point to starboard!"

"Jinjur, signal our squadron to alter course one point to starboard. Grimtongue, put the helm one point to starboard!" Signal flags flew up to the top of the rigging, passing along the flagship's signal, as the Black Wind turned slightly to the south.

Asha could see what her nuncle had in mind. With his squadron to the north of the Targaryen fleet, and her squadron to the south, the Targaryen forces would be trapped. While she hoped that the ballistas would be enough to force the Targaryen fleet to surrender, or to destroy it, she knew that might well not happen. Her own squadron was strong enough to deal with damaged or fleeing enemy ships, the more so because along with her own people's longships, some of the royal dromonds that weren't suitable for conversion to ballista-carriers were included.

She looked up uneasily. There were no signs of dragons, which she took to be a good sign. Her nuncle had said that he had a "surprise" ready if the Targaryens tried deploying their dragons. "King" Euron had spent time talking with her husband, and Tyrion had been looking up everything he could find about the Targaryens' dragons. After lengthy discussion, they had decided that adapting the ballistas on the ships to fire upward, as well as horizontally, would be the best option. "I don't know if dragons can handle wildfire," Tyrion had remarked, "but we can find out! And if nothing else, the fate of Meraxes might keep Daenerys Inbred from letting her pets play with us!"

Cersei Lannister Baratheon

Aboard the Silence, Cersei felt no fear as the enemy fleet drew closer, only fierce anticipation. She had always feared that Maggy the Frog's prophecy would come true one day…that a younger, more beautiful rival would appear to take away all that she had.

She smiled a carnivorous smile. Not going to happen, bitch! At least not today! She had always raged that, as a woman, she was forbidden to take a direct hand in events, even when she or her children were in direct danger. At long last, she was out in the front of battle, and able to do something, instead of sitting and waiting for others to decide her fate!

For a second, she thought of her children. I wasn't able to protect your older brother, Tommen, Myrcella, but I'll protect you! With that thought, she mentally urged the Silence on, eager to come to grips with her enemies. She hoped she'd be able to get her hands around the Targaryen bitch's throat.

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion felt himself tense up as the enemy fleet grew nearer and nearer. The Targaryen ships, all flying the royal colors of a black three-headed dragon on a red background, forged ahead in good order, their oars rising and falling as though they were parts of some machine.

For a second, he wondered if a machine could be built that would propel ships through the sea, freeing sailors from the tyranny of the winds. His wife had told him that unfavorable winds could keep sailors from putting to sea, or from putting into port, for days or weeks at a time. He contemplated the advantages of a mechanical system to propel ships for a second, before forcing his attention back to the upcoming battle.

The leading Targaryen ships were closing in on the Silence, which plowed ahead through the water, at the head of the main squadron. Tyrion could see crewmen on the enemy ships, readying what had to be the "crows" that they had heard tell of. He smiled grimly. They have a surprise in store for us, but we've got a better one for them!

Finally, the trap was sprung. From several of the leading Baratheon ships, ballista bolts flew out toward the nearest Targaryen ships. Some of them missed, slicing harmlessly into the sea, but some of them struck home. To Tyrion'' horrified delight, they worked perfectly. Gouts of green flame suddenly erupted on the struck ships. The green flame was quickly joined by bright orange and yellow flame, as the dry wooden hulls and sails caught fire. Tyrion could hear yells of horror at the sight, and one or two ships veered away from the main squadron, hoping to get out of range of the deadly fire bolts.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

Asha caught her breath as the first enemy ships caught fire. She had known what was coming, but seeing it with her own eyes brought the Battle of the Blackwater back to her mind. She knew that this was necessary, but she would never be comfortable with the idea of setting ships on fire.

If this becomes normal, war at sea will have changed forever! One part of her mourned the loss of the old ways, even though she knew that change was inevitable. While she knew that there weren't enough ironborn to make the old ways of the Iron Islands work, even without factors like the Targaryens' dragons, she understood many of her countrymen's reluctance to admit that they had to find new ways of living.

One of the Targaryens' high-built galleys, its huge sterncastle a mass of flame, veered toward the Black Wind. On the forecastle, archers began sending arrows into the sky, and some of them thudded into the deck near where she and Tyrion were standing. Lorren Longaxe and Rafe the Dwarf ran over, holding up shields.

"Jinjur, have our archers give them back what they're giving us!" shouted Asha. As they drew their bowstrings back, the Black Wind's archers joined in the sardonic ironman prayer, singing in chorus:

"For what we are about to give them…may the Drowned God make them truly thankful!" At the word "thankful," the arrows were loosed, arcing gracefully over the water to impact on the deck of the enemy ship. The archery duel was on, hot and furious. Asha glowered at the enemy ship, and then had an idea.

"Grimtongue, put our helm a point to port! Make ready to repel boarders!" Grimtongue nodded, seeing what she had in mind. Closer and closer the two ships came, and Asha could see the cutwater on the enemy ship, with the bronze-beaked ram visible just below the water. She could see water dripping off the enemy ship's sides, and the oars, rising and falling in perfect rhythm. She wondered, with one small part of her mind, whether the oarsmen were Unsullied. Even though their ship was aflame, they apparently took no notice, concentrating on their job.

"Prepare to repel boarders!" Asha shouted. She could see that the other side was preparing to deploy their "crow," and hoped that the drills that they had devised to deal with that eventuality would work. She hated to think of her beautiful Black Wind damaged, but knew that such things happened in battles.

Grimtongue was a good helmsman. Ignoring the arrows thudding into the deck around him, he steered the Black Wind just where Asha wanted her to go, close alongside the enemy ship. Whoever was in command on the other side hadn't anticipated that move, and the Black Wind smashed into the banks of oars, snapping them and causing chaos. Asha could hear shouts of horror from aboard the enemy ship. She knew that doing something like that, while it was seldom possible, would inflict horrific casualties as the oars were torn from the rowers' hands, battering them as much as if they were weapons in the hands of her crew.

Sure enough, the other side had ideas, too. The "crow" came whistling down, to crash through the rigging, embedding its spike in her deck. Luckily, whoever had designed it had not had low-slung Iron Islands longships in mind as potential targets, and the spike only penetrated six inches or so.

Along with her crew, Asha ran forward, grabbing the end of the evil thing. "Pull it up! Push us away!" she screamed. Rather to her surprise, Tyrion was right there beside her, lending his surprising strength to lifting the spike out of the hull. Their feet scrabbling on the damp decks, the ironborn (and Tyrion) pushed and pushed, trying to get the end of the "crow" off the Black Wind. The crew that weren't otherwise occupied, whether with keeping the ship going or with trying to sweep the enemy's decks clean with arrows, grabbed hold, throwing every ounce of their weight and strength into ridding their ship of thise menace. Finally, they had the end of it on the far side of the railing, and gratefully let go, letting it dangle uselessly. "Sheer us away!" yelled Asha, and Grimtongue put the helm about, steering away from the enemy.

Here and there, on the surface of the water, patches of green fire danced where mis-aimed bolts had hit the water and gone off. The main squadron, with the Silence in the lead, had done dreadful damage to the enemy fleet, but the fight was by no means over. Her own squadron was engaged, keeping out of "crow" range of the enemy and relying on mass archery to thin out the enemy crews. As she watched, an enemy ship took a fire bolt in the forecastle. The bolt penetrated the relatively thin planking of the forecastle's side and exploded inside it. All of a sudden, the forecastle was a mass of green and orange flame, and she could see men throwing themselves into the sea to try to escape. Flames ran up the enemy's rigging, catching the sails.

Cersei Lannister Baratheon

Cersei was amazed to find that she did not feel an ounce of fear. She was too excited, caught up in the incredible spectacle of her first sea battle. She paid no attention to the arrows whizzing around her. Like her beloved, she was wearing armor, and had a helmet on. She was enough of a fatalist not to fear drowning, any more than the ironborn did.

Beside her, Euron was in his element, shouting orders to his men. She understood little of what he said, but under his command, the Silence was steadily making her way along the enemy line, with the rest of the main squadron in line behind, their ballistas sending fire bolt after fire bolt into the enemy. It was the most incredible sight she had ever seen. No wonder dear Euron likes this so much!

Again and again, the enemy ships tried to close with the Baratheon fleet, clearly hoping to use their "crows" to board and make it a hand-to-hand fight. Forewarned, the Baratheon ships repeatedly steered clear, trusting to their ballistas and fire bolts to take care of the enemy. Arrows flew in both directions, sometimes so thickly that they seemed to be like clouds in the air, and curses, shouts and screams rang over the water. Smoke eddied and billowed everywhere, and in many places, Cersei could see heads of swimmers bobbing in the water, men who'd decided that drowning was a better death than burning alive.

Ahead of them, she could see what had to be the enemy's flagship. She was bigger than the other enemy ships, ornately decorated and gilded, and flying the Targaryen colors. Her oars rose and fell in perfect unison, and, when she squinted (her eyes weren't quite what they had been, although she'd sooner have died than admit it to anybody) Cersei thought she could see a figure on the quarterdeck, a slender woman with long, flowing white hair.

"The Dragon Queen!" yelled Euron. "Come on, lads, let's take her! I want her alive!" The mute crew of the Silence responded, and the ship seemed to shudder as she surged ahead, as the crew set more sail to catch more of the wind.

Daenerys Targaryen

Daenerys had never been in a sea battle before, and it was nothing like what she had expected. To her horror, the enemy ships did not follow the time-honored sea tactics she had been told they would. Rather than trying to board, the enemy held off, firing what looked like long, heavy spears into her ships, setting one after the other on fire. Green and orange flames burst from their sides, and only the stolid courage of the Unsullied oarsmen kept them underway. The sails and rigging were tinder-dry, and caught fire readily, forcing the crews to cut them down and throw them overboard.

The Dothraki who had embarked with her were brave men, heroes one and all, but this was not a sort of warfare at which they excelled. They were able to use their archery to good effect, showering the enemy decks with arrows, but she could tell that they wouldn't be happy until they were on dry land, with horses under them once again.

She hadn't expected the Usurper's side to come up with such an effective weapon. While, as a Targaryen, she did not fear fire at all, many of the men crewing her ships definitely did. She watched, clenching her fists impotently, as several of her hired ships put about, cracking on all sail to flee the battle as quickly as they could.

She did have another trick up her sleeve, though. She signalled her dragons, who had been lazing about, far above. She remembered reading about how her ancestors had conquered Westeros with three dragons. Let's see how they deal with fire! she thought fiercely.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

Asha was the first on the Black Wind to see the danger. "'Ware dragons!" she screamed, as three long, reptilian shapes swooped from the skies. Her crew sprang into action, deploying mats of hopefully-fireproof cloth made from some odd mineral over most of the decks, and placing buckets of sand and water where they could be easily grabbed. They couldn't do much about the sails, but if those were lost, the Black Wind still had her oars. The "white-ash breeze" was by no means a substitute for sails, but hopefully, it would suffice to get the Black Wind to a harbor where the masts and sails could be repaired, should that become necessary.

Luckily, the dragons did not pay much attention to the Ironborn longships, preferring to reserve their wrath for the larger royal dromonds. They stooped like hawks on prey, and when they got close, they breathed fire. Several ships caught fire, burning from stem to stern, with men leaping into the water to get an easier death.

But "King" Euron had anticipated just that sort of thing. From ship after ship, fire bolts soared skyward, all of them aimed at their flying foes. Most of them missed; the dragons' speed was greater by far than any ship's, and aiming at a flying target was by no means easy, although they had tried finding ways to practice at Kings Landing before the battle.

A few fire bolts did hit, though. The lead dragon, a fierce black creature, gave a hideous metallic scream as the fire bolt that hit it splashed it with flammable liquid, which ignited and covered its underside with licking green flame. It forgot completely about the ships, twisting and writhing and barely staying airborne as it snapped and pawed at itself, trying vainly to extinguish the green fire. Apparently while dragons could ignore ordinary fires, wildfire was another matter entirely.

Cersei Lannister Baratheon

Cersei had stared in horror as the dragons attacked. They had missed the Silence, but had ignited the dromond just behind her, burning the ship from one end to the other in seconds. That could have been us just as easily! rang through her mind.

When she saw the ships firing on the dragons, and scoring some hits, she screamed in triumph. "How do you like that, 'Dragon Queen?'" she shrieked toward the distant figure of Daenerys Targaryen, who was watching, her eyes wide in horror to see her precious dragons actually injured. If we'd had wildfire centuries ago, the Targaryens might never have conquered us! Cersei thought exultantly.

Beside her, Euron laughed like a maniac. "Signal all ships: 'Converge on enemy flagship!' I want to take the Targaryen bitch alive!" As the flags fluttered up, he smiled, looking very like a wolf. "Oh, Cersei, thank you for this opportunity!" he said. "This is the big sea battle I've always longed to be in! This is where we Greyjoys…where we ironborn…belong! This is what we do! This is what we are!"

Cersei laughed too, a wild exultant laugh. "And I'm a Lannister! Ever since Aegon the Conqueror, we've owed the Targaryens a debt! And a Lannister always pays his…or her…debts! Let's board that wallowing sow!"

"Great minds think alike!" The Silence steered straight for the enemy flagship. Arrows began raining down again, most of them slicing harmlessly into the water, but some of them thudding into the deck or the masts. Several of Euron's mute crew slumped, arrows sticking out of them.

It happened very suddenly. Euron was standing beside her, holding a shield up to keep the arrows off them, and utterly intent on his target, focussed on the enemy flagship over everything else. Then he was slumping, his single eye wide open, staring at nothing. An enemy arrow had, by a thousands-to-one chance, come down at just exactly the right angle and got past his shield, penetrating his skull.

For a second, Cersei's mind stopped. All she could see was Euron, lying there. Except for the arrow sticking out of his head, and a little blood coming out of his nose, he looked like he was still alive. She almost expected him to bounce to his feet and take command again. The roar of the battle around her faded to a buzzing in her ears.

Then it hit her. Euron was dead. She felt a wave of grief and loss nearly as great as the one she'd felt watching her oldest boy die in her arms. Then, just as she had before, she felt a terrible rage overwhelming her.

Then, at the wedding banquet, she had focussed her fury, mistakenly, on Oberyn Martell and Sansa Stark. Now, she knew for sure just who was responsible, and she knew what to do. She squatted, closing Euron's eye, and then rose to her feet. "You've lost your king, but I am your queen! I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms!" she shouted, loudly enough to be heard over the sounds of battle. "ATTACK! Follow me!" His face a mask of awe and terror, the mute helmsman did as he was told, steering straight for the Targaryen flagship.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

"Tyrion! Look!" Asha could hardly believe her eyes. The Silence was steering straight for the much-larger enemy flagship, and the surviving dromonds in the main squadron were following. The other enemy ships had clearly had enough. Those which were more intact were turning, putting their helms a-port and cracking on more sail, clearly eager to get out of the fight. The others, many of them horribly damaged, were running up white flags and throwing their Targaryen banners into the sea in token of surrender.

"That crazy bitch! Has she gone mad?" Tyrion peered toward the Silence, shading his eyes with his hand. "That ship's twice the size of the Silence! And the dragons are still up there! She'll be roasted!"

"No, I don't think so!" Up above, the dragons had apparently learned that human ships could hurt them. They circled and screeched, belching gouts of flame from their nostrils, but did not attack. The one that had been hit with the wildfire was clearly still in pain, although the wildfire had gone out. It emitted keening cries, and the other two dragons seemed to be trying to comfort it.

"We've got to help her!" Asha shouted to the helmsman: "Lay us alongside the enemy flagship! Prepare a boarding party!" She smiled crazily. Her hatred and suspicion of Cersei was forgotten. All she could see was her rival grabbing for glory, and she wanted in on it! The Dragon Queen was a threat to her babies, and rather than see her children endangered, she'd fight the entire enemy crew, singlehanded and naked!

Closer and closer, the Black Wind approached the enemy flagship, and ladders were prepared to deploy; the enemy ship's gunwales were higher out of the water than any longship's, which made boarding difficult. Asha's people hadn't spent centuries perfecting the art of piracy for nothing, though, and they had long since learned how to board higher ships.

A huge cloud of smoke from a burning enemy ship obscured Asha's view for a little while, and when it cleared, the enemy ship was close, close. Asha could read her name now. She was the Aegon the Conqueror, and she looked new-built. The Dragon Queen must have commissioned her, Asha thought for a second. She'd be a valuable prize and a worthwhile addition to the royal navy, if she could be captured intact.

Unlike many of the other Targaryen ships, the Aegon the Conqueror was not burning. From her decks, Dothraki archers sent storms of arrows at the approaching Baratheon ships, and below the main deck, Asha could see rows of bald-headed men, probably Unsullied, pulling at the oars. While occasional arrows thudded into the deck of the Black Wind, the enemy seemed to be preoccupied with the Silence and the Baratheon dromonds in her wake, concentrating their archery against what had to seem like a greater threat.

We'll make them respect us! thought Asha. She watched carefully, waiting for the proper moment, gauging just when she should signal for the ladders to be deployed. She checked to make sure that her sword was loose in the scabbard, and patted her axe where it rode on her side under her armpit. She hadn't been in a really good fight since the Battle of the Blackwater, and she knew she would relish this one. She hadn't had anything in particular against Stannis Baratheon, but she knew she could come to hate the Dragon Queen for a lot of reasons, not just because Daenerys Targaryen threatened her precious babies' lives.

The Targaryens had put an end to the era of ironborn dominance of the Westerosi mainland, and had burned King Harren and his sons alive in their mighty fortress of Harrenhall. Since the time of Aegon the Conqueror, the ironborn had been poor, confined to their home islands and not daring to raid the mainland save in times of civil war there, for fear of dragonfire.

When she gave the signal, the ladders were deployed, with grappling hooks holding them on the Aegon's gunwales. "Follow me!" she yelled, swarming up the ladder. Much to her surprise, when she got to the top of the ladder, she found that the first person who had come up behind her was none other than her own husband.

"I'm a Lannister, and the battlefield is where we belong! We're a team!" yelled Tyrion, as more and more of the ironborn swarmed up behind him.

The enemy crew hadn't anticipated being boarded. Not, for the most part, seamen themselves, they had apparently thought that their high freeboard would protect them from such things. Having Asha and her crew swarming over the side, screaming and waving weapons, startled them. Before they could collect themselves, Asha and her followers were in among them.

It was a fierce, vicious fight. The Dothraki were all but invincible in their own element, but at sea, they were at a great disadvantage against the ironborn, who were experienced seamen and quite used to the conditions on board a ship. Asha slashed at a Dothraki who tried to gut her with his arakh, then parried and thrust into the nomad's gut. Beside her, Tyrion leaped forward, swinging an axe and chopping into the knee of a sailor who was about to try to chop him in two with a cutlass.

At this close range, the Dothraki couldn't use their bows effectively, and their weapons were better-suited for cavalry combat than seaborne warfare. At first, Asha and the Black Wind crew had an advantage, and they pressed forward, but the other side had much greater numbers, the more so when Unsullied began appearing on deck, coming up from below. The Unsullied were all but impossible to stop, short of killing them outright, which wasn't always possible. More and more, Asha and her men were pressed backward, until they were clustered together near the ladder they had used to board. Asha wondered if jumping back onto the deck of the Black Wind was a feasible move.

Just then, silent warriors came swarming up the other side of the ship, led by none other than Cersei! Unlike Euron's mute crew, the Queen Dowager of the Seven Kingdoms was yelling like a banshee, swinging a heavy spiked club as she charged into the fight, Euron's mutes right behind her.

Cersei Lannister Baratheon

Cersei had heard of berserkers, but had never thought that she was one herself. At the first close-up sight of the Dragon Queen's warriors, though, she had felt battle-fury rising up in her and possessing her. She could hardly believe what she was doing. It was like she was watching from outside herself, seeing this blonde war-goddess made flesh charging into a thick knot of enemies, screaming "Die, you scum! Die! Die!" while laying about herself in all directions with a spiked war-club. The feeling of her club hitting flesh felt incredibly good. It was as though she was releasing decades of anger and frustration all at once.

Out of a corner of her eye, she saw Asha and Tyrion, in among a bunch of ironborn who were hard-pressed by the enemy. Before she quite knew what she was doing, she charged to the rescue. You can't do that to my little brother! Only I get to kill my little brother! The enemies attacking Asha's group hadn't expected to be attacked from behind, and before they could turn, she had brained two of them and smashed another one with her club.

The swirl of battle seemed to stop for a second, as she confronted her brother and good-sister. "Fancy seeing you here," Asha said, her usual aplomb clearly shaken. "I never thought I'd see the day! You did really well, there!"

"I'm a Lannister. We don't breed cowards. And I see you haven't done badly, yourselves!" She could see blood on her brother's axe, and remembered the Battle of the Blackwater, and other fights that Tyrion had been in.

"After this is over, we can bore Jaime senseless with battle stories! In the meantime, heads-up!" Tyrion pointed behind her, and Cersei ducked just as a giant Unsullied swung a sword. She could feel the blade glancing off her helmet, and she spun around, swinging her club and catching the Unsullied in the side. She could feel his rib cage collapsing under her blow.

Tyrion Lannister

Finding his sister in the middle of a hot sea fight was the last thing Tyrion had ever expected, but there was no real time to worry about it. The Targaryen forces were rallying, and although more and more friendly sailors were boarding, the fight was by no means over.

Unsullied, freed from the necessity of rowing, were boiling up through the hatches, and they all took a great deal of killing. Tyrion took advantage of his small size to slip close and attack, and he saw Asha working with him, just as they had at the Battle of the Blackwater.

His world shrank into the moment. He felt no fear; he was just too busy. Swing here, dodge there, slash out there, and try to stay alive. Pain existed, but it receded into the distance. All that mattered was the enemy in front of him, and killing that enemy before he could be killed himself.

At last, there were no living enemies close enough to engage. Panting, his mouth dry, he looked around, to see that the Baratheon-ironborn forces had taken the main deck and the fo'c'sle. A small clump of Dothraki and Unsullied still held the quarterdeck, surrounding a small, slight girl with a shock of pure-white hair. The Dragon Queen herself! Tyrion could hardly believe it. Jaime will shit himself sideways when he hears about this!

Cersei had taken a few wounds, but she was still on her feet, her green eyes glittering and her tear-streaked face twisted in an insane grin. "Follow me!" she shouted, and ran for the companionway up to the quarterdeck. Asha and Tyrion exchanged glances, and leaped to follow the Dowager Queen.

The fight on the quarterdeck was bitter, but brief. The defenders were badly outnumbered, and clearly disheartened. The Unsullied stood their ground, and died where they stood. The Dothraki, on the other hand, had lost all stomach for further fighting, and many of them dropped their weapons, kneeling and crying out for quarter.

After a fierce few minutes' fighting, it was over. One of Asha's crew ran to the flagstaff, hauling down the Targaryen colors and running up the Greyjoy flag. Tyrion wondered where he'd found the time to fetch it. Meanwhile, Cersei was confronting Daenerys Targaryen.

"So, bitch," Cersei sneered, "this is where it ends! Your dreams of conquest are as dead as the man for whom you named this ship! Bend your knee to me, you inbred cow!"

Daenerys looked up at her rival, her expression unreadable. She bowed her head for a second…then she threw herself at Cersei, gripping the Dowager Queen around the throat. Cersei was startled; she hadn't expected any such thing, and she was knocked backward, falling off the quarterdeck to land on the maindeck. She landed head-first, and Tyrion could hear the sound of her neck snapping. For a second, he felt sick.

Daenerys was also badly rattled by the fall. She clearly hadn't expected any such success, and for a second, she shook her head dazedly. Asha yelled "Grab her, Jinjur, Harren! Take her prisoner! Keep her alive!" Before the Dragon Queen could do anything, she found herself a prisoner.

Tyrion looked around. All around, he could see ships, but the ones which were still intact and under control were flying Greyjoy or Baratheon colors. The enemy ships he could see were mostly aflame, and the water was dotted everywhere with the heads of swimming men, some of them grasping spars and other flotsam to keep themselves afloat.

Asha Greyjoy Lannister

Asha could hardly believe that the battle was over, and it was apparently a crushing victory. My nuncle's ideas were vindicated, she thought. With that thought, she wondered where her nuncle was. Cersei was clearly dead and she hoped that Euron wouldn't be too upset. Going to the side of the ship, she looked down at the Silence, and saw her nuncle, laid out on the deck with an arrow sticking out of his head. The mute crew of the Silence looked up at her, clearly awaiting orders.

"Hagen. Board the Silence and take over command. Rolfe, go get signal flags and make a signal. 'All Baratheon ships and prizes, return to Kings Landing.'" With her nuncle dead, overall command was hers, and suddenly it felt like a burden heavier than she had ever borne. She hoped that the surviving crews of the ships that were still afloat would be sufficient to con them back to Kings Landing, or some other friendly port.

The Aegon the Conqueror, and the rest of the fleet, altered course, heading for the harbor at Kings Landing. Asha and Tyrion looked at each other.

"So, this is final victory," Tyrion husked. He looked at his dead sister, laid out on the deck with a cloth over her and two of the Silence's crew as honor guards. "Our babies are safe."

"So is our nephew the King," Asha whispered. "I wonder what your father will say when we come back with the enemy queen as our prisoner?"

"Let's go and find out!" And with that, they turned to the tasks needed to get their ships and prizes back home.