AN: So, it's yeah... Been a while. Here's the next chapter. Let me know what you think.


"Tell me of Alexander, Jorah." Daenerys instructed her brother's vassal as they rode side by side to keep pace with her husband's Khalasar, "I wish to know more of the man who stole my mother away and abandoned my brother."

Internally Jorah Mormont could only sigh as he once again heard the blatant lie that Viserys had fed his younger sister about the Lord of Soldiers. The truth was that Viserys had somehow managed to steal her away from the rest of her family one night with the help of some mysterious benefactor. And while Jorah had his suspicions on just who that benefactor was he didn't have any proof to confirm or deny them. He had also been sworn to secrecy about the matter, for Viserys was worried about how his sister would respond to the news that she had been taken away from her mother and a man who would have been a father to her at not even two years old.

"Well, my lady, Alexander is a man of many layers and facets. On the one hand you have a man who is adamant in wanting to improve the lives of the small folk, whether it be via the schools he constructs or the laws he enforces, and a man who is highly regarded by all those that can call him an ally, as well as many of his enemies. And then, you have the man who inspired the name he is most known by, the Lord of Soldiers. There is one event in particular that stands out to me, and that's mostly because I was there..."


*** Nine Year Ago ***

Six years... It had been six years since Robert Baratheon, the then new King, had been bloodlessly thrown back from Dorne by the Lord of Soldiers. It had been six years since Alexander had married the former Queen, Rhaella Targaryen. It had been six years since an uneasy peace had been established between the King in King's Landing and a man many considered to be a living legend beyond those in recent memory had taken hold. Now the Seven Kingdoms were to be shaken again, for the man himself was leading his army towards the Iron Islands like some great and unstoppable behemoth not two months after tragedy had struck his family. The Greyjoys, in their arrogance, had crossed a line that few, if any, in their right minds would have crossed.

Now they were faced with annihilation.


They had come for him and his. He had been visiting the Dornish coast with his family, a sort of vacation, to celebrate the fact that the new central home of the Legion was relatively close to being completed, and that such construction had, almost miraculously, taken only a small handful of years. The fortress was simply being called the Sanctus and while it wasn't a new Harrenhal, or even close to that kind of size really, it had been called impressive in scope and design by those who would not embellish such things. The fortress and surrounding compounds had been built just at the edge of the Red Mountains, not far from the Torentine, with Starfall being its closest neighbor. An expansive fortress in its own right, with ridiculously thick walls, five stout towers with interconnecting bridges, and an extremely defensible position, it was a place built from the same stone of the mountains behind it and upon the concepts of practicality first and foremost. This was a notion that all those in the Legion were trained to focus on whenever and wherever possible, and in this way the Sanctus was a near perfect reflection of such an ideal.

No one had been expecting them, as there had been very little warning before the Ironborn were in view and upon them, nothing more than a small force made for quick strikes and departures. Still, their arrival had to be considered impressive seeing just how far away Dorne was from the Iron Islands, and to do so undetected made it even more so. Thankfully, Alexander's guards had been able to respond just as quickly, otherwise the whole situation could have been much worse. The resulting skirmish had been as brutal as it had been quick, but an errant shot had found an unintended mark. In the end, a single crossbow bolt would be remembered as what finally, and truthfully, brought the Ironborn to their knees despite having been shown the folly of their precious Iron Price through countless generations.

Xander's family hadn't had the time to evacuate and his youngest child, little Serah, had taken a crossbow bolt straight through the chest. Ironically, she had been the only casualty. He'd had three children as the start of their trip: his oldest son Samwise, his first daughter Lorrel, and his youngest child Serah. They had killed a babe while aiming for her mother as Rhaella held her in her arms. Now he only had two children and a new purpose, the complete and utter destruction of the Ironborn.


"Xander, please consider what you're doing! If you go through with this you may well turn many of the other Kingdoms against you!" Doran nearly shouted from his chair, where he sat across from the one man in all of Dorne that actually rivaled him in power, despite how he knew the other man would never think to threaten his position. They were in Alexander's office within the Sanctus not a full two weeks after Serah's death. He had come as quickly as he could not only for the child's funeral, an event that had sent ripples throughout all of Dorne, but to also try and temper the Soldier Lord's next actions. He was not yet aware that this attack was actually just one of many perpetrated by Balon Greyjoy's reavers. Never the less, by the time he had gotten to the fortress of the Legion all of Alexander's commanders had been summoned and the rest of his forces, which had grown exponentially over the years, were being marshalled. Nearly 15,000 trained and equipped soldiers, 1,600 of which being Special Forces, in all. Not all of them were originally Dornish, but they were all loyal. Alexander had the uncanny ability to detect the disloyal or those who might not be truly up to par, and he had taught all those past a certain level to do the same. Even with 5,000 remaining to defend Dorne along with the some of the banners of the noble houses it was still a respectable force in the hands of any other lord, but truly terrifying given just how well trained and supplied they were, as well as who was commanding them.

"I have considered it, Doran. Believe me, I've considered it. In the end though, they came after me to show their strength. They came after me to show the other Kingdoms that they are more than the filthy pirates that everyone else knows them to be. Instead all they did was kill my baby girl!" Here Alexander paused to steady his voice and collect himself before continuing, "I will always remember when her cries were snuffed out, expecting to see her quieted by her mother when I turned, but all I saw was Rhaella holding on to her for dear life. All I heard was silence... These Ironborn kill children, rape, and thieve and think themselves so great for it! I plan to disabuse them of this notion." Xander replied with a mostly calm tone, despite how his eyes now glowed, giving away the absolute rage he was feeling.

Alexander's eyes had, over the last handful of years, become another feature that now made him stand even further apart from other men. It was often said amongst the small folk that Alexander was something more than a man, that he was possibly even an avatar of the Warrior himself. This opinion had slowly become common amongst the ranks of his army and the small folk throughout Dorne, and was even starting to gain traction within the other Kingdoms. Coincidentally, such a belief made the Soldier Lord's forces fight even more fiercely upon the field, made them even more determined to stick to his commands and ways of going about things. And if his informants were correct, then Doran knew that many of the houses north of Dorne, both great and small, were becoming distinctly uncomfortable and were trying to stamp such a notion out wherever they could, despite having only limited success. Regardless, the Ironborn had killed his daughter; they had aimed for his wife and killed his little girl. Now they were going to be made an example of to the rest of the Kingdoms. Doran could only see such an action as adding credence to the rumors already circulating around the Soldier Lord. Only adding more fuel to the fire, so to speak…

And, not for the first time, it was the eyes that stopped Doran from putting any real effort into trying to dissuade the man in front of him from his chosen course of action. They told him that no matter what he did the Iron Islands were going to burn and if he got in the way, friend and ally or not, he would be trampled just like everyone else between the man before him and his target.


The Kraken had over reached, and he had done so badly. Balon Greyjoy's arrogance apparently knew very little in the way of limits if he had honestly thought that pissing off almost every single Kingdom in Westeros in one go was a good idea. This was the first thing that Stannis Baratheon thought as the reports in front of him started to put all the pieces of what the hells had just happened together for him. Then he looked at one piece of parchment in particular that informed him of Alexander's own recent actions. The Ironborn had killed his youngest child, while aiming for his wife no less, and now the man was all but saying 'Either come to help, or stay out the hells of my way'. And of course Robert wasn't going to take this lying down. In fact, he seemed to be taking the missive he'd been sent as a challenge, a race to see who could put the Ironborn down first.

He had already ordered Stannis to destroy the Iron Fleet as quickly and as brutally as possible after hearing of Balon Greyjoy crowning himself King of the Iron Islands. The successful burning of Lannisport had only added salt to the wound. He was to take no prisoners and to show no mercy, for the King was positive that Alexander would show none when one considered why he was assembling his own army. All things considered, not even Robert could begrudge the other man's reaction towards the Ironborn after such an attack.

The King's anger had not cooled over much in regards to the Soldier Lord protecting some of the remaining Targaryens, though it had been diverted away a great deal with Viserys stealing his sister and running to the Free Cities; away from Alexander's protection. This was seen as the young former prince being unwilling to truly give up his claim to the throne despite the oath his mother had given. So Rhaella and any children between her and Alexander were seen as a lesser threat. It also helped that none of the children were given the Targaryen surname, which kept Robert's mind more easily away from them. Regardless, while Alexander himself may not have even realized it, Robert saw every move he made as a challenge and sought to match or exceed him whenever possible. And he practically had a fit whenever he saw himself as being outdone by the man who had so often defied him. Still, with the Legion marching at a record pace the King was determined to light a fire under everyone's collective asses in order to beat the other man to Pyke. And maybe such zeal didn't have the best reasoning behind it, but Stannis was thinking that those in the effected Kingdoms, the Reach and the Westerlands especially, weren't going to complain.

'What could Greyjoy have been thinking?' Stannis thought as he continued pouring over the documents littered across his desk, 'He couldn't have possibly thought he would get away with this madness.' Now the man had an angered Dorne and Alexander to contend with, as well as a properly motivated Robert Baratheon. Essentially, two terrifying fronts coming at him from multiple directions with the intent of complete destruction…

However, despite everything that Robert was doing to get there first, Stannis could only think that Alexander was still going to beat him by a fair margin. He knew that the man in question liked to be as prepared for every conceivable eventuality as was possible and that meant the ability to assemble and deploy his forces at a speed that no other could currently match. The Lord of Dragonstone had taken the time over the last handful of years to visit with the Lord of Soldiers every other year, ever since he had attended the older man's wedding. An event he had attended for the sole purpose of learning as much as he could from the man. And, despite the overall short amount of time he had been able to spend doing so, learn he had. Alexander had taken the time that Robert never would, and even though he was a hardened soldier himself by that point, and while he would never say so out loud, the Soldier Lord was the type of man he wished Robert had been. And, if nothing else, he considered the man to be one of his best and most respected teachers. One he didn't always see eye to eye with, but one he kept in regular contact with to this day none-the-less.

Regardless of all of the thoughts running through his head though, due to his position as Master of Ships, he was to call forth the banners under him and pull the Royal Fleet together in order to smash apart the Iron Fleet before transporting Robert's host from where they were going to break the Ironborn's siege on Seagard after they had finished assembling themselves. It was his duty to destroy the Ironborn, and so it would be done. And if there was one thing about himself that had never changed and would never change it was how he would always put duty first.


The Legion had beaten King Robert's forces by two days, and that had been enough to seal the fate of the Ironborn of Pyke. When they had arrived as swiftly as they had, after sinking any ships that got in their way while using their speed to skirt around the majority of the Ironborn forces not tied up elsewhere, Balon Greyjoy had expected to be offered terms. He already knew that his pride would not allow him to accept, but it was expected of an adversary settling in for a siege to put forth terms of surrender.

No terms came. In fact no messages were sent at all. All ravens were killed as they departed his castle and all ships or boats trying to leave the docks were sunk the moment they were spotted. Then the bombardment started. Crystalized Wildfire began raining down not only on the heads of those in Pyke, but also the docks at Lord's Port and every fishing village and dock capable of launching, repairing, or building ships. This was quickly followed by a volley of flaming tar… The devastation was immediate, immense, and vicious. For Alexander did not want to make the Greyjoys and their supporters kneel, no, he wanted to break them. And what better way to do this than to wipe out both their ships and their infrastructure, to eradicate that which supported them?

It was with this realization that Balon found himself screaming in fury. The Lord of Soldiers had made straight for them, completely bypassing Seagard and a few other places on his way through the Iron Fleet and onwards to Pyke. He was also making a point of leaving those Ironborn houses less invested in the old ways alone and focusing solely on the man behind all of the damage done. He had come for Balon, and the King on the Salt Throne knew that his only chance would be to go to the Baratheon King with his tail between his legs like a beaten dog that had bitten its master's hand. This thought drove him even further into his rage. Though that rage would burn itself out before too long, to be replaced with nothing but despair. Especially when the bombardment stopped after the first day to be replaced with the first rumblings of an event that would literally reshape the very face of his island…


The caves, that was how he did it. The small islands that stood as the base for every other structure attached to the Great Keep of Pyke were riddled with small to midsized caves, like pock-marks on the surface of the rock. Worn away by the ocean over the millennia the inhabitants of Pyke didn't generally think much on these relatively small inlets. That was, until members of the Legion detached from their main galleys onto smaller craft to fill as many of these caves as possible with sealed and water proofed casks of Wildfire. They had to set off a few premature detonations in order to make more space and burrow the volatile substance even further into the rock in places, but this had been expected. The task was dangerous and a good handful of men were lost in the process, but their lord had made this clear when asking for volunteers and still they had stepped forward. Those who fell beneath the waves, even with precautions, would have their names and deeds transcribed in the books of the Legion, as heroes to the coming generations. After all, they had been instrumental in an event the likes of which had not been seen in Westeros in an Age.


'I wonder what the other Scoobies would think of me now…' Xander found himself wondering not for the first time as he overlooked the ongoing operations he'd put in motion from the bow of his flagship the Enterprise. A name that still confused almost everyone who'd ever heard of it, but he hadn't been able to help himself. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what Willow, Buffy, and the rest of them would think about what he was doing now. What would they think of what he had done in the past in order to both survive and help others?

He had killed people since coming to this world, and from their perspective it would probably seem like a lot of people. Living in Westeros long enough made it pretty much an inevitability. Would they hate him? Would he disgust them? Or would they, by some miracle, understand why he had done all that he had done. It was questions like this that sometimes kept him up at night and made him feel even more regret about having to become a murderer. Regardless, he had a feeling that his next order wouldn't make him feel as much regret as gutting another soldier on the field or taking the head of a criminal would.

"My lord, should we not simply do it now and be on our way? The men have done as instructed to the best of their ability and are eager to see justice done," one of Alexander's lieutenants asked from his place beside his lord. The man in question was one of the original 25 soldiers to have passed through Xander's training, and one of the first to be dubbed good enough to be Special Forces. A tall and deceptively lithe man, he had short blonde hair and light green eyes within an angular face. He was actually from the Westerlands, a bastard from one of the lesser Lannister lines. Not that such a thing actually mattered over much, but still.

"No, Barchrel, we wait. I want word of this to spread as quickly as possible and the Ironborn are too insular when they aren't reaving up and down the coast. No, we need Robert's armies to bear witness, to spread the word of what happens to those who think they are better than the law and all others around them," Alexander replied as he moved his gaze to his lieutenant then back across the choppy waters surrounding Castle Pyke. Then he looked over at the man and continued with, "How far are they?"

"Less than a day, my lord." Barchrel replied curtly. He, as well as the other unit commanders, knew their lord's mind on this matter. Not all of them fully agreed, but his reasoning was sound and what was to come would certainly send a powerful message.

It didn't hurt that the Ironborn were wholly deserving of it.

"Good, it's time for the next phase then. Bring me Balon, alive and as uninjured as is reasonable."

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. And be quick about it, will you? Looks like a storm is brewing..."


The sight that greeted Jon Arryn as the King's company approached Alexander's own upon a hill near the shore was not one that he'd been expecting. He had taken note of the sheer destruction that had been brought down upon the settlements surrounding Pyke and the disturbing lack of small folk and his stomach had been turned at the implication. It appeared that even a man with Alexander's sterling reputation can be truly ruthless if pushed in the right way. And the Ironborn had certainly put a lot of effort into doing just that. It was almost like the entire island had been burned to the ground. Upon closer inspection he could see the ancient Greyjoy stronghold had fared little better. Looking to one of his former wards, he saw Ned wasn't doing much better. Though the man's constant stoicism hid his disquiet rather well. As they pulled closer the aging Hand found the man in question to be waiting for them before they brought their mounts to a halt.

"King Robert."

"Alexander." The word was said with a good deal of disdain attached to it, but not as much as Jon would have thought. It would appear that even Robert could not entirely fault the Lord of Soldiers' response. "By the Gods, how did you beat us here? You were on the other side of Westeros for fuck sake!"

"The ability to mobilize much faster than you due to a more solidified command structure, the speed of my vessels, and not stopping to assist with any sieges or damage… It also didn't hurt that the majority of the Iron Fleet had to deal with Stannis, who is an exceptional naval commander. Even then, I only beat you by two days." The other man's response actually surprised the Eyrie Lord; he had been expecting a vague notion of how he had done what he'd done, as per usual. Not a concise, though admittedly sparse, description.

"Fuck, you really can be a heartless bastard." Robert's response was also rather apt all things considered, even if the man speaking sounded like he almost didn't believe it himself. If what they were hearing was correct the Lord of Soldiers hadn't stopped once to render aid to anyone. He had simply sailed on a non-stop course from his ports at the Sunspear to the Iron Islands, all the while using Stannis and the Royal Fleet as a distraction so that he only had to deal with the few dregs of the Ironborn fleet. And even then it was only the ones who had dared to get in the way of his collection of skimmers and war galleys. Ingenious, really, even if Jon Arryn knew he wouldn't have had the stomach to just walk away from so many in need. Though, to be fair, it could be argued that by being so expedient in putting down the main instigator, Alexander could claim to have saved many of those who could still have become future victims of the Ironborn… Then, to top it all off, it seemed to those who came with the royal host that he had simply started putting the island to the torch as soon as he had arrived.

"I have a gift for you," the man before them said without preamble. What came next was something that he hadn't fully expected but wasn't too terribly surprising. The soldiers surrounding them on Alexander's side parted to let two men, clearly marked out as Special Forces, drag a frail looking and hooded man forth. Moving over to the fallen figure in two quick strides Alexander snatched the hood off the man's head and an almost wraith like and kneeling Balon Greyjoy was revealed to them. Jon could tell immediately, that despite lacking any evidence of anything more than a little rough handling his defeat and the brief time he'd spent in the care of the Legion had not been kind to him. Following Balon was something a little more surprising though, as the youngest, and possibly only remaining, children of the man in question were escorted forward. At least they looked to have been treated well, all things considered.

"May I present, Balon Greyjoy and his last two children." The Lord of Soldiers said this without any showmanship; he was just stating who they were and nothing more. In fact, his voice hadn't changed from the flat monotone he'd first greeted them with. If Jon were being honest he would have to say that it was just as unsettling as it had been six years ago.

"Fuck," was all Robert could say. From there the conversation had quickly turned to what was to be done to the captives.


"Ned, I want you to take the boy as your ward," Robert told his old friend as matters were finally drawing to a close. Ned, for his part, only looked startled for a second before he collected himself and nodded his agreement,

"As you wish."

"Good. Now…" Robert started only to be interrupted when Alexander raised his hand to interject.

"And I will take the girl."

"Why?" Robert asked, somewhat startled. And he wasn't the only one either, most of those present, including Eddard, Tywin, Jon, and Stannis all had varying looks of surprise upon their features at the pronouncement. "I think you've made it plenty clear how you feel about the Ironborn, more so than any of the rest of us." Everyone present was thinking the same thing, more or less.

"I will not have even one more child be touched by the Greyjoy corruption and weakness any more than they already have been," Alexander stated, his voice the same deadly calm it had been since they had arrived. He crossed his arms before continuing, "And what better way to truly punish the man if you don't plan to kill him for his stupidity? I say we take away his every possible hope for the future. Make him pine away for death, and, at the same time, every day show the world his cowardice when he cannot bring himself to take his own life."

To think, Robert had thought the man too soft from time to time. 'Well, fuck,' was the only thing he found himself thinking after the Lord of Soldiers had said his piece. The already somber discussion between some of the most powerful lords in Westeros had gone completely silent as the realization of what kind of man Alexander could turn into when truly pushed sunk in.


The next morning, Alexander had asked for the conquering lords still in the area of Pyke to gather atop the same hill he had met the King on the day before. He had also requested that Balon and the last of his children be present as well.

"Ned!" the King called as he saw his long-time friend approached. He was a bit annoyed at having to get out of bed, but Jon Arryn had insisted he be there as all his major lords had replied to Alexander's request in the positive, "What's going on? I thought the man said he was going to be leaving today."

"I don't know, your Grace. I suppose we will find out when we get there." This only made King Robert mutter in dissatisfaction. If it was one thing that truly drove him 'round the bend when it came to Alexander, it was his almost complete disregard for the station of others. And what made it worse was that many did not seem to try and call him on it too often. Not even Tywin Fucking Lannister of all people, one of the prickliest sons of bitches on the damn planet! This, in turn, only gave the man in question more of right to do as he pleased in the eyes of most of the realm. It was maddening!

As the King and his friend finally crested the top of the hill where everyone else was waiting for them Alexander spoke,

"Good morning, King Robert. Now we may begin." He was dressed in his standard attire, with a small group of Special Forces flanking him as they always were.

"Why have you brought us here?" Jon Arryn asked. His eyes still holding a distinct sadness to them that had been there since he realized that Lord's Port, its surrounding villages, and all of its people had been slaughtered by the man in front of him. Jon Arryn had never had the constitution for such things, and even Robert (within the confines and privacy of his own mind) had found such an action disquieting. The others present merely stayed quiet as they waited for an answer. Even Balon Greyjoy himself, the man whose pride had started this whole mess, remained silent.

"I have one final gift for you," Alexander said before looking around, "but first where are the children?"

"Here, my Lord." Then a blonde man dressed as one of the Soldier Lord's lieutenants came forward, leading the two remaining Greyjoy children forward with a hand on each of their shoulders. He was flanked by no less than half a dozen regular infantrymen. Apparently, Alexander was taking no risks when it came to Balon Greyjoy trying to salvage what was left of his situation.

"Good. Theon and Asha, correct?" This was directed at the children themselves.

"Yes." It had been the girl who responded. The boy, young as he was, looked terrified to be in the presence of the man whom had so easily circumvented his family's defenses. Those present had learned the day before that the Legion had put every person, man or woman, who carried any kind of weapon to the sword the night they took Castle Pyke, before seizing Balon's family and clearing the fortress of all the wealth found inside. As is, these events would be a memory that would haunt young Theon for most of his life.

"Very good, now I have a question for you. When I point at that man there," Alexander then raised his finger on the direction of a hunched over and chained Balon, "what do you see?"

The girl, Asha, looked over at Balon for a second and responded with, "I see my father."

"Really? Well, I see one of the weakest men I have ever laid eyes upon." Asha's only response was to shoot Alexander a glare and almost everyone present either shifted uncomfortably or had to keep mild looks of amusement off their faces. Robert noted that Tywin Lannister was one of the latter.

"How dare you!" Balon seethed before he was silenced with a strong blow to the back of his knees and head sending him to the ground. Even Theon looked like he was going to say something, but a quick look from the Soldier Lord cowed him thoroughly. Asha, for her part, merely remain silent, even almost passive.

'Smart girl,' Robert thought. Yes, he was the King, but even he recognized that this was Alexander punishing Greyjoy for the death of his daughter, as well as who knew how many others. Robert knew that if he had been in the other man's shoes he would not have appreciated any interruptions, no matter who they were from. It didn't help that Alexander's eyes had started to faintly glow as he continued to speak. Unsettling that…

"Do you know why I call him weak, Asha?" Alexander asked as if Balon hadn't spoken.

"Because he lost." The response was instant. It looked like the girl had already given it some thought.

"Yes, that is part of the reason. Can you tell me why else I might call him weak?" This seemed to stump the girl, but he still gave her a moment to consider it before continuing, "I call him weak, not just because he lost, but also because he truly thought this madness would work at all. He was out numbered, had fewer ships, fewer resources and relied too much upon his initial momentum. Once the surprise from his audacity was gone, there was no conceivable way he would have been able to continue any real effort and his people would inevitably suffer the consequences. Do you agree?" The entire time he was speaking he never looked away from the girl, his eyes never faltered. For her part, the girl only looked back at her father for a moment, before something dawned in her eyes. She looked back towards the man asking the question and asked,

"If he had not attacked you, you would not have come?"

"I would have sent a small, effective force to help, but no, I would not have come." The girl stood there for a good couple of minutes as she mulled something over in her head, eyes closed and brow scrunched up in thought. Again, no one witnessing this dared to interrupt.

"It's because of him my uncle and brothers are dead. It because of him Lord's Port is gone and our people with it. Those few left alive will probably starve if they stay. And it's because of him that my mother can't stop crying." At these words the girl, who had remained so stoic through this entire conversation looked like she was going to break down before she stopped to collect her emotions. The next words out of her mouth, trembling though they were, would be the ones that truly shattered Balon's spirit. At least this is would be what Robert told his companions later that night when he had more than a few cups in him. "You're right, he is weak. He is disgusting…"

Looking over at the girl's father, all Robert could see in him was despair. Robert doubted he would ever see another man so broken. He couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to know that your own child despised you.

"Yes…" The word came out low and Alexander's eyes flared. He had gotten the answer he wanted. "Do you believe he deserves to be punished even more?"

Again, young Asha looked back at her wreck of a father before simply nodding her head. Her brother Theon had actually started to silently cry at some point. The King supposed that having one's beliefs and worldview shattered could have that effect on even the strongest men, let alone a small boy. Everyone else present had remained completely silent, respectful of or unsettled by what was happening. Even the men surrounding this gathering of lords were still.

"Good," then Alexander peered directly at Robert before saying, "With your permission, King Robert, I have two final things to present to you before I withdraw my forces back to Dorne."

"Aye, and what're those?" Robert asked with only a small huff, finding himself unusually solemn with everything that had been happening.

"First, the treasures of Pyke are yours to do with as you will," Alexander said as he motioned to the bottom of the hill where several large carts looked full to bursting with treasure stood, "I have only taken enough to pay my people their campaign wages and the like; the rest I give to you, as is your right."

'Damn,' Robert thought, 'that's a lot of gold. The reaving must have been good these last few months.' He only nodded for Alexander to continue after bringing his attention back to the man.

"Second, Balon Greyjoy come forward." The ragged man didn't even bother to try and stand, so the legionnaires holding him simply dragged him through the mud and ashes of the hill. "For your actions I leave you one last thing to remember me by," with that he raised his hand for a few seconds before lowering it decisively. It looked like Jaime Lannister, of all people, was going to ask what he was doing before they all heard a faint rumbling. Then they saw it.

Gouts of green flame shot into the sky from the base of the standalone sections of Castle Pyke accompanied by what Robert could only imagine sounded like the roar of a hundred dragons. Then the small islands holding up these structures were shaved down, which made the structures in question look almost like a Vale rockslide he had once seen as they fell into the sea. Men yelled and nearby horses were spooked, but no one dared look away. Balon Greyjoy's cries of pure agony were the only thing that seemed to truly ring out over the rest of the noise brought about by men and massive amounts of falling stone. Soon enough it was over and the only thing still standing was what Robert knew to be the Gatehouse. Everything else was gone, or might as well have been gone.

"Worry not," Alexander to a weeping Balon, "what's left of your household is in the Gatehouse, including your wife." With that he knelt down to the man's level before grabbing him by the chin and forcing the other man to look at him, his eyes aflame with gold and green energy. He would only say three more words before bidding the others present farewell and taking his leave,

"For my daughter."


Daenerys was silent as Ser Jorah finished his tale and they continued riding side by side, many of the Dothraki around them capable of understanding Ser Jorah absolutely enraptured by his words. Still, they too were silent. After all, what could one say after such a story?


AN: So, apparently, it's been almost two years since I've updated this story. Well, all I can say is sorry. Life got a little hectic for a while there. Still is really, but I've got a better handle for the moment. I can't say about what the future might hold, but I don't think anyone really can. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this latest installment. It took me a while even when I did have more spare time to get it the way I more or less wanted it. Also, please review, it would make my day. Any ideas, questions, or concerns? Lay 'em out.