YARA

Even her ironborn, the sea-born warriors, could not stomach the way the massive, rogue waves were hitting the hull, fiddling with the galleys as they wished. It seemed as if the wind of the whole world had gathered just to gash over this narrow strait, stirring the waters of the Narrow Sea. Utmost sailors of Westeros they may be, but the waves did not care for it, rebelling against them. Some saw it as a sign of the Drowned God, telling them to turn their sails around and point their bows towards home. However, Yara Greyjoy’s stubbornness was well known amongst her people. Besides, the loss of ships and men was already too great to abandon this quest now, their feet hadn’t touched land in months, their bellies hadn’t tasted decent food in weeks and their eyes hadn’t seen the sun in days. But in Yara’s experience, aiming for a great reward, usually meant accepting greater risk. So, when the news of the King’s death arrived, all of her advisors agreed with the Lady of the Iron Islands. If there was ever a time to fight for their independence, this was it. 

Seeing as how the waves emptied the bellies of her warriors after each meal, only leaving them hungrier, it was only natural the crates of food were emptier than predicted. That forced Yara to either starve her ironborn or make few unplanned stops along the way. Their restless, ambitious cruise proved a greater challenge than she thought. However, time was a comfort she could not afford. The Dornish army was making its way to the Capital by land, but the waters were hers, and even on a bad sailing day, she would choose a ship over a horse. 

Finally, the heavily armed Iron Fleet was spreading over Shipbreaker Bay, overflowing it, in the blackness of the night. Deep into the bay, as their galleys finally settled, the ironborn took a few calming breaths, letting go of their oars, soaring through the placid, black waters, embracing the calmness before the storm. The fire that ignited the first payload of the catapults, disturbing the pitch black night, marked the point of no return. Unleashing it, put an end to the silence and peace ruling within the walls of Storm’s End. Not long passed before the immense drum tower was abandoned by its inhabitants and banners carrying a golden kraken decorated the massive curtain wall of the formidable fortress. Yet, Yara Greyjoy’s ambition was not met. Her hope of drastically lowering the numbers of her enemies here, shattered the moment she learnt that Lord Gendry had been quick to foresee his defeat and pull his armies back, proceeding on to join their allies at the gates of King’s Landing, awaiting for her barrage. 

Not long after her recent conquest, news from the west came knocking at the door, allowing her to settle and enjoy the perks of her victory. With the Dornish taking a detour on their way to King’s Landing, conquering Lannisport, her ironborn could take their necessary and deserved rest, adjusting their feet to the land before heading into yet another battle. As long as the imp was dealing with another enemy, he would not risk retaking Storm’s End. He might have lost his wits, but even Tyrion would not dare fight on two battlefields with the little army he had. 

For Yara, there was something alluring in the exploration of a newly won land. The air smelled like victory wherever you decided to stroll. Although Storm‘s End did not allow much strolling. The image of this fortress that formed in her mind when she was only a young girl proved accurate. For one, it did not include streets… in fact, the entire castle consisted of a massive curtain wall surrounding a single immense drum tower. Unlike many other cities she had seen or learned about, which consist of a complex of different buildings, Storm's End was entirely contained within one large building. As she recalled, this was due to the wild storms that frequently battered the castle, necessitating a design that minimized the amount of time inhabitants would need to be outside. Perhaps she was a better student than she thought. However, eventually, the simplicity of the drum tower inspired dullness and much like her former Queen, patience was not one of Yara’s personality traits. 

 And surely enough, after a fortnight in this city, the sails of the Iron Fleet dropped, steering the galleys towards their final destination, the Capital. The sea had yet again, left Yara wishing her warriors were as tireless as the waves. She had it all planned. Unlike at Storm’s End, the waters of this bay were her enemy. The prime goal of the better part of the galleys was to dock as soon as possible, debilitating the chance for the dwarf to play with his favorite green toy. Of course, you could never predict the outcome of war. 

The dawn's first rays of sunshine swam out of the surface of the sea, brightening the golden kraken on the sails. The silence ruling in Blackwater Bay sent shivers down her spine. Something was amiss. Oddly quiet for a city of thousands of people. She could feel anxiety taking over her body as she took a deep breath, surrendering to the calamity that ruled the air. What is dead may never die. 

>> Chapter 30: JON