The Penitence of the Wolf - An Iron Fall - Part One. (Patreon)

Jaime Lannister, The Golden Lion – En Route to Pyke.

“We’ve left Faircastle behind, my Lord. The Baratheons and Hightowers have joined us, and the Redwynes are four days away,” the captain told Jaime, who was staring out at the immense ocean from the deck of his father’s ship, the Golden Lion.

“Good. Maintain course. We don’t really expect any trouble until we reach the islands, but with these pirates, you never know. King Aerys’s orders were clear,” Jaime said with determination, making the Captain nod solemnly and return to his post, leaving the young Lion completely alone. His golden hair moved with the wind from the waves, although the sea breeze could do nothing to calm Jaime’s thoughts.

The young heir of Casterly Rock still couldn’t believe how much everything had changed in such a short time, how much Westeros itself was changing.

And for the better, he thought, feeling a strange sensation in his chest, warm and extremely pleasant.

The swaying of the ocean was a kind of balm for Jaime. The sea breeze was relentless, making the young Lannister shiver as it brushed against his skin, although, if he was being honest with himself, he cared little about the freezing ocean breeze. The young Lion’s mind was occupied by other matters.

Matters, or rather, people Jaime had left behind at the Rock.

Like his new wife, Jaime thought as he crossed his arms, thinking about the situation awaiting him when he returned to the Rock.

Lilian Lannister, youngest daughter of Lord Damon Marbrand, as well as the most beautiful woman Jaime had ever seen in his entire life.

His wife now, he thought with pride and a measure of disbelief, remembering that meeting at Casterly Rock where he had seen her in person for the first time.

Flashback.

“It is decided. Rulership over Great Wyk will be granted to House Tyrell. Half of the island will be administered by House Redwyne and the other half by House Hightower. House Martell will have responsibility over Saltcliffe, House Stark will take possession of Blacktyde, while House Baratheon will do the same with Orkmont. And Pyke will belong to the Lannister. Meanwhile, Harlaw will become a direct vassal of the Iron Throne, owing fealty directly to the Crown. Any questions?” the King asked rhetorically. Every competent man and woman present perfectly understood the plan, as well as the implicit message the Monarch had delivered.

With one exception.

And obviously, it had to be the obese flower of Highgarden himself, Lord Mace.

“My Lord! But what about Lord Tully and Lord Arryn?” the stupid man asked, incapable of reading the political climate of the continent even if it fucking punched him in the face.

All the Lords around him regarded Lord Tyrell’s words with thinly veiled contempt, although the King merely looked at him as if he were a small child before replying.

“House Arryn has already demonstrated its incompetence by being unable to deal with the Three Sisters, my Lord, while much of the Riverlands’ coast lies along the Sunset Sea. Seagard will serve as the region’s connection point with the rest of the islands. I have already sent a letter to Lord Mallister granting his city fishing and taxation rights over the future trade routes,” the King said, giving the official and entirely logical explanation for why he had made such a decision.

Although the more obvious answer, the one any man with half a brain knew, was that House Targaryen did not trust either the Arryns or the Tullys. The King’s latest political moves had left them considerably isolated, making House Dragon’s position on the matter perfectly clear.

And therefore causing the other Houses to react accordingly.

His father had discreetly moved soldiers toward the Golden Tooth. In his own words, it was only a matter of time before the Tullys did or said something stupid.

Jaime suppressed a snort. What his father truly wanted was an opportunity to expand the Westerlands. There were a couple of leagues of fertile land that would prove quite useful, that was, if there was even a war to begin with, considering that the Blackwoods, Mallisters, Darrys, Goodbrooks, and Mootons were far more loyal to the Crown than to their own Lord Paramount.

Although Jaime cared little about that. His attention was focused on the King’s final decree and on the fact that, after the War, all the most important families in Westeros would have responsibilities in the Iron Islands.

The King wanted to transform the dead and pathetic islands into a kind of commercial port, a secure connection between the Kingdoms, as well as a constant flow of food thanks to the immense Sunset Sea.

And the fact that he had assigned an island to each kingdom had not been a coincidence either. The Lords were proud and would surely want to earn the King’s favor, so they would use their own resources to develop the islands.

It was a masterful move. No Lord would allow himself to fall behind, and because there would be different interests throughout the islands, it would prevent them from becoming a problem in the Future.

A brilliant military move, one that matched the Monarch’s calculating mind.

Jaime observed his father. He remained impassive, but his eyes regarded the King with complicated emotions. Without a doubt, just like Jaime, Tywin Lannister had been able to decipher that although it was a great honor for the island of Pyke to now belong to the Westerlands, he also perfectly understood the King’s cunning political maneuver.

However, the meeting paused the moment the doors of the Hall swung open, revealing the ethereal and beautiful vision of Queen Rhaella. She wore no gown, but rather a beautiful and elegant tailored leather coat, with a blood-red cape over one shoulder and a silver ornament shaped like a dragon holding her cape in place.

She was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Jaime still hadn’t forgotten that this ethereal Valyrian Goddess had burned two dozen ships and incinerated almost a thousand men during the defense of Lannisport.

He had even heard that his cousins in the city had commissioned a statue of her and renamed the city’s central square in her honor as the Queen’s Square.

The moment she entered, every Lord bowed their head in respect, no one stupid enough to anger a woman who rode a dragon.

“Your Grace,” they all said, with the exception of King Aerys, who merely replied more casually.

“My love, to what do I owe your visit?” he asked normally, without the slightest hint of reproach over the interruption or anything of the sort.

The Queen smiled, an elegant gesture laden with power, while the heels of her boots echoed throughout the room.

“My Lord Husband, you mentioned that you wanted to be informed as soon as Lord Marbrand and his daughter arrived, that you wished to meet Jaime’s future wife,” the Queen said softly as she walked toward the King’s chair. He immediately stood, allowing the Queen to sit in the place of honor at the table before positioning himself behind her in a protective gesture.

Another message, Jaime thought as he watched the Queen rest her head against the King’s torso with a sigh, elegantly taking his hand, both of them focusing their gazes on the doors through which Ser Gerold and Ser Barristan were escorting a family Jaime knew.

A…meeting that had Jaime as expectant as he was tense, if he was being honest. Jaime had dreaded this day ever since his father informed him that he would marry Lord Marbrand’s daughter, and according to the rumors…

Lord Marbrand’s daughter was not…the greatest beauty in the Seven Kingdoms. They said she was blonde, with a long, slender neck, but with the face of a horse.

Jaime couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the mere thought of such an image.

However, the Heir of Casterly Rock could think no more about it, because at that moment, the family of four entered the council chamber.

Wait…four?

“Your Grace! Thank you for this honor! We are not worthy,” Lady Marbrand said as Lord Damon and his family knelt before the Targaryen monarch.

The King made a courteous gesture and replied.

“Rise, my Lords. I know you’ve had a long journey, and I wish to meet the future Lady Lannister,” the King said, making the family rise.

And giving Jaime his first glimpse of hope in this entire situation.

Lord Marbrand had arrived not with one, but two daughters. One perfectly matched the descriptions the rumors had mentioned, a maiden who had more in common with a mare than with a highborn Lady.

But the other…Gods, the other had been blessed by the Maiden herself. Jaime could find no other explanation for it.

She had the most beautiful wavy red hair he had ever seen. The faint rays of sunlight filtering into the Rock made her appear even more mystical, as if such a thing were possible.

Her eyes were…like gleaming jewels, filled with life and defiance, unlike the pale and insipid blue orbs of her sister, who couldn’t stop staring at Jaime like a little puppy waiting for a fucking command to get on all fours and please him.

The young woman’s face, her skin…everything was perfection, and that wasn’t even taking into account the feminine and attractive figure she possessed. Jaime even had to suppress a murderous impulse when he saw several Lords, including the fat Tyrell, staring at the young Marbrand with obvious desire on their faces.

Jaime stood and walked firmly toward the two maidens while Lord Marbrand continued sucking up to King Aerys.

When he arrived, the uglier sister, the blonde, looked at Jaime with shining eyes filled with excitement.

“My Lord Lannister, it is a pleasure to meet you. My name is P—” she said while making pathetic attempts to capture the young Lion’s attention, who instead focused entirely on the beautiful redhead.

“My Lady, I’m afraid we haven’t met,” he said as he extended his hand toward Lady Lilian, who returned the gesture calmly and elegantly beneath her sister’s envious and furious gaze.

“My Lord, I am Lilian, daughter of Damon, Lord of Ashenmark, and it is…a pleasure to meet you,” said the sweetest and most melodious voice Jaime had ever heard in his life.

And the young Lion knew, at that precise moment, that he had found his Lady Lannister.

Flashback End.

After that meeting, and while the fleets and armies prepared themselves, the King and Queen insisted that the wedding take place as quickly as possible. His father protested at first, arguing that the marriage of Casterly Rock’s heir deserved to be a grand event.

However, the King reasoned that if Jaime was going to war, they needed to prepare for the worst, and that after the invasion, Tywin could celebrate both his heir’s wedding and the victory over the Ironborn, which would be the perfect occasion to demonstrate that even after being struck, the Golden Lions would rise stronger than ever.

Jaime snorted as he remembered that moment. His father might be proud and ruthless, but Aerys Targaryen knew very well which strings to pull to make the Old Lion do whatever he wanted.

Such as arranging a quick ceremony between Jaime and his new, beautiful wife.

Lilian Lannister.

Just thinking about it made the young Lion unable to stop an enormous smile from spreading across his face. The ceremony had been quick and simple, and his father had promised that when they returned from the war, he would celebrate it with all the grandeur it deserved.

But that mattered little to the Golden Lion of Casterly Rock. Jaime married Lilian with a radiant smile and bedded her for seven days and seven nights straight, making sure to spill his seed inside her every time, to the evident pleasure of them both.

His wife…Gods, his wife was simply perfect, Jaime thought with a smile, remembering the passionate nights before departing Lannisport.

The young Lion was so distracted by his fantasies, by the memory of his wife’s weight upon his body, that he didn’t notice his uncle Kevan arriving beside him.

“Nephew,” he said in his characteristic raspy voice, pulling the young Lion from his thoughts.

“Uncle,” Jaime said warmly, bowing his head in greeting, his mind focusing once more on his mission.

On Pyke.

“We’ll reach the Greyjoy coast soon. Are you ready?” Ser Kevan asked, making Jaime snort.

“By the Gods, Uncle, we’re aboard the largest ship on the ocean, at the rear of the fighting, not to mention that we have the King and Queen on our side. This will be a stroll. The only thing I regret is that…”

Kevan interrupted him.

“That you’ll be away from your wife for several months,” his uncle replied, making Jaime sigh and nod.

As a result, his uncle Kevan laughed loudly as he warmly slapped Jaime on the back.

“Ah, I understand. It’s normal for newlyweds to want to be together all the time, and from what I heard, you certainly didn’t waste any time, hahaha. Seven days and seven nights. Quite the Lion, nephew,” his uncle said with some mockery, but without any cruelty in his words.

Jaime could only blush, preparing to reply, when the Golden Lion’s lookout bells began thundering loudly.

“Ironborn in sight!! All hands to your stations!!” the sailor roared, making every man present begin moving toward their various duties across the deck.

One by one, the other ships of the combined Lannister–Targaryen fleet began preparing for war, while in the distance, the blurry silhouette of Pyke began to appear, guarded by…a more than considerable number of ships.

“It’s time,” Jaime said cautiously as a pair of squires brought leather armor for both him and Kevan.

He hoped they wouldn’t need them, but better safe than sorry, the young Lion thought as he took his sword from his squire and focused once more on the battle.

The Greyjoy ships had drawn closer, and Pyke was now as clear as the sky.

“The fleet is on alert. They were expecting us,” his uncle Kevan said as he gently stroked his chin.

“Obviously. After the beating at Oldtown and Lannisport, I’m surprised they didn’t try escaping to Essos, or perhaps disappearing into the vast North for a few months before trying to slip away.”

His uncle didn’t respond, too busy watching the Targaryen ships. The decks of the royal fleet were illuminated by some kind of modified scorpions. Jaime had never seen anything like them.

The weapons were…large, twice the size of what one would expect from a normal scorpion. The angle was wrong; they seemed to be pointing toward the sky, and the tips weren’t made of steel, but rather some kind of emerald fire…

The more robust ships remained in the rear, while the smaller ones, those designed to hunt the longships of the Ironborn, moved forward.

Although it was obvious that their primary purpose was to keep the galleons safe while they prepared whatever they had in mind.

“Do you have any idea what the fuck they’re doing over there?” Kevan asked curiously as the ships of the Lannister fleet began fighting the faster Greyjoy vessels.

“No idea, but the King is no fool. I’m sure he has a plan,” Jaime said with certainty in his voice, just as two powerful roars shook the ocean.

ROOOOAR!!

ROOOOOAR!!!

Everything stopped for an instant. Sailors and nobles raised their heads in astonishment, many of them seeing a dragon for the first time in their lives. Aenarax’s black scales and Rhaegal’s emerald ones descended from the clouds where they had been hidden, diving with perfect coordination like enormous arrows aimed directly at the Greyjoy fleet.

The filthy pirates tried to react, of course. They had even prepared improvised scorpions aboard their larger ships, but at the speed Rhaegal and Aenarax were moving, they were completely useless.

And then…the inevitable happened.

Both beasts opened their jaws ferociously, unleashing a black and green inferno among the Greyjoy ships as they flew in circles around the enemy fleet.

The devastation was instantaneous. The flames kissed the ocean and, in the process, tore apart at least a fifth of the Greyjoy ships present before the dragons climbed back toward the heavens.

The Ironborn unsuccessfully attempted to fire scorpion bolts, but at such altitude, they simply lacked the necessary angle to inflict any damage.

“Looks like we won’t be needed after all,” Jaime said with a sigh, making his uncle Kevan smile before replying.

“Oh, quite the opposite,” said the Old Lion’s brother, just as distant shouts could be heard from the Targaryen ships and the Crown’s strange scorpions began firing one after another.

Jaime watched curiously as the projectiles climbed above the battle, resembling the wandering stars that could occasionally be seen in the skies of Westeros. However…just as they reached their highest point…

It happened.

BOOOOOOM!

Twenty emerald stars rose from the Targaryen ships, all exploding in the skies above the battle one after another and transforming into at least a hundred flaming projectiles that began falling with lethal precision toward the Greyjoy fleet, who had no way of avoiding such a massacre.

The results were…as expected. Much of the Greyjoy fleet was in flames, chaos reigning among the enemy, which meant only one thing.

“ATTAAAAACK!!” Ser Kevan roared as the fleets moved in to finish the job the Crown had started.

In the distance, Aenarax and Rhaegal were now wreaking havoc across Pyke’s docks, destroying walls, ships, and any possible reinforcements or means of escape from the islands.

The invasion of the Iron Islands…had begun.