𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫 // 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧

Chapter VI

We'll never get free
Lamb to the slaughter
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?
The price of your greed is your son and your daughter
What you gon' do when there's blood in the water?

(Blood // Water - Grandson)

Dwarfstone

By morning, all was ready. The Velaryon fleet had returned late the previous afternoon as planned, and everything had been perfectly organized and laid out. The twelve casks of Wildfire had been handled with extreme caution, and Jocelyn had ordered that no fires be lit for about a mile nearby. The Wildfire had then been decanted into twelve larger barrels, and the insides had been filled with cheap wine mixed with water, to partially disguise the green of the explosive. Soldiers had then loaded the barrels onto three carts, which had been set up at the edge of the camp. The next step was to organize the fake surrender. At first light, as small fires were lit on Bloodstone Beach, a sign that the men of the Feedercrabs were awake, the Targaryen army had begun to leave the camp. A long and clearly visible column took the road back. In truth they would simply head to the ships, ready to intervene for any reason, although, at the young Strong's order, a thousand men led by Lord Corlys would outwit the opposing army and would position themselves behind them on Bloodstone. It was only at the end of all this that Prince Daemon Targaryen climbed into a small boat, landed on the beach of the Feedercrabs and waving a white flag announced the surrender, and invited Craghas Drahar to treat with the King's advisors.

There were few tents left in the Targaryen camp, and among them, imposing, stood that of the general command. Jocelyn Strong was sitting on a rigid aspen chair, finely crafted and rather uncomfortable. Her father was pacing back and forth, and Ser Erryk Cargyll stood as still as a statue, staring out at the horizon. Soon a boat would dock at Dwarfstone, and the Rogue Prince and the Prince Admiral would enter. Jocelyn had decided to don Harwin’s armor and keep Rebel close to her. She hoped she wouldn’t use it, but a strange feeling had been gnawing at the pit of her stomach for hours now. “Are you sure you want to expose yourself so much, my dear?” Lyonel Strong asked suddenly. The Lord of Harrenhal feared that if anything went wrong, his daughter would be the first to lose. A fear shared by the young Cargyll. “Yes, father. What are you? We just need to talk,” once the negotiation was concluded, the King’s men would wait for their opponents to divide the barrels and place them in the caves, and then Prince Daemon and Laenor Velaryon on their dragons would set the Free Cities’ army ablaze. “Even a simple exchange of words can be dangerous, my Lady. I beg you to be careful,” Erryk said hastily. Jocelyn smiled at him and raised her sword, showing it off. “Don’t worry, Ser, I can defend myself, and I think you know it,” then taking advantage of a moment of distraction from her father, she winked at the man. Laenor Velaryon burst into the tent, panting. “They’re here. The Crab-feeder is coming here,” and entered, followed by his father and Uncle Vaemond. The first to enter the tent was Prince Daemon, who, with a disgusted and angry expression, positioned himself behind the young Strong’s chair, patting her on the shoulder. The two looked at each other and nodded. It was time to take back the Stepstones. Four of the Crabs' men entered, armed and cocky, then made way for their leader. Craghas Drahar suffered from greyscale, and was forced to wear a gold mask, half broken, that he had found in a shipwreck. He dragged his chair back and sat down very noisily in front of Jocelyn, then pointed at her. "Do you have the habit of having your servants warm the chairs here in Westeros? Get up, little girl, and go out. The men must speak." Prince Daemon shook his head in amusement. He wanted to answer, but Strong beat him to it. "The little girl in question, Mr. Drahar, was sent here by the King to negotiate the surrender." The Crabs first looked at her and then turned his face to the right, spitting on the ground. "I did not think I should deal with a woman." "And I did not think I should deal with a man who has a habit of feeding his enemies to the crabs. How strange the Gods are, aren't they?" The man from the Free Cities grunted and then invited the woman to proceed with the terms of surrender. "King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, announces the surrender of his troops and renounces formally to his dominion over the Stepstones and the trade within them. In exchange, he asks one simple thing: the immediate withdrawal of your troops and an end to the war. He also asks to be allowed to maintain peaceful relations and therefore to be able to continue sailing along the routes of the Narrow Sea. Of course, the King knows he must pay a tribute and hopes that it is reasonable, if not for the Crown, at least for the citizens of all Westeros and especially of King's Landing. The people live off maritime trade." The Prince Admiral looked at his men, more for a theatrical gesture than to really listen to them. "Is that all?" he asked, leaning his elbows on the table and approaching Jocelyn. His fetid breath made her sick to her stomach. Erryk leaned forward, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Yes, that's all. Of course, we expect you to respect your 'neighbors', namely the Velaryons of Driftmark." Corlys's gaze hardened. He would have preferred to cut his head off right then and there, but he had to stick to the plan. “Um, you Westerosi Continents are really weak. Weak and stupid. You give up your lands like that, after a bit of a fight, and offer a terribly humiliating surrender for yourselves… Good for me,” Daemon coughed and then smiled falsely at the man. “It seems my army has given you enough to work for.” “It seems your brother is handing me the Stepstones,” Daemon moved forward and drew his sword. “I’ll kill you, you bastard,” he shouted, holding the blade to his throat. Jocelyn leapt to her feet and put her hands on the man’s shoulders, pushing him back to where he had been before. She then turned to the Crab-feeder, who was sitting slouched in his chair and looking thoroughly amused and satisfied at having pissed off the Targaryen. “Forgive the Prince’s intemperance. I am truly mortified by this useless outburst of anger. It is unforgivable, especially during a negotiation. King Viserys is a peaceful man, and before lands, gold, or fame, for him there is only peace in the Seven Kingdoms. These are our terms. Nothing more and nothing less.” The Prince Admiral stood up and held out his hand, still stained with blood. Jocelyn shook it vigorously and smiled. “One last thing, Mister Craghas Drahar. Here in Westeros, as in the Free Cities for that matter, hospitality is a serious thing. And Prince Daemon has been terribly disrespectful to you. I beg you to accept twelve barrels of fine wine. It comes directly from the countryside around Highgarden. It is not like that of the Arbor, but it is worthy of being drunk,” Jocelyn removed the lid of one of the barrels she had near the table and dipped a cup into it. He pulled it out and handed it to the man with the greyscale. The Crab-Nutrier drank it greedily and nodded. “Good. Thank you, Lady...?” “Strong, Lady Jocelyn Strong.” Everything was going according to plan. Or almost. “Lady Strong, would you be so kind as to accompany me and my men to Bloodstone Beach? I want to put your surrender on paper and I need your signature, you represent the King, don’t you?” Lord Lyonel suddenly paled. Had the Crab-Nutrier realized this was a farce? He would take his little girl hostage or worse, kill her. “Why not draw up the document here?” he said. “No. My men must attend, it’s a matter of principle. In any case, under what title do you speak?” Jocelyn didn’t like that proposal at all. That strange feeling in the pit of her stomach was getting worse. But there was nothing she could do. “He is my father, Lord Lyonel Strong, Master of Laws.” “Let him come too if he doesn’t trust me. The more signatures I have, the better. So where is the wine? The twelve barrels were loaded first and shipped to Bloodstone Island, then the boat went back to collect the Crab-feeder with her men and Jocelyn, followed by her father and Ser Erryk. Before following the enemy to sign the treaty, the daughter of the Lord of Harrenhal had agreed on the signal to attack with the Prince. At the exact moment they landed, Jocelyn would hold the Prince Admiral, while his men would divide the barrels. Once they were divided among all the caves, Caraxes and Seasmoke would set fire to everything. Lord Lyonel did not particularly agree with this improvised plan. The Crab-feeder and four of her men would survive, which meant that the small group would have to engage in a fight. Jocelyn included. The boat returned to Dwarfstone and the small group prepared to climb aboard. Craghas Drahar held out his hand to Jocelyn, helping her up, and then smiled at her. "You'll smile for a little while longer, you scoundrel," thought the young woman, pretending to return the courtesy. "Why the weapons, Lady? Even the armor... We are allies now," said the Nourishcrab with a false tone of offense. "You are soldiers, my Lord, and you only know one language: violence. Violence commands respect. And I am a woman who needs respect. From you, from your men, and from all those who stand in my way every day,” she said, scanning the waters. From afar she could see how the men of the Free Cities were haughtily hoisting the barrels into the Bloodstone caverns. Poor simpletons. The boat landed and everyone got off, without saying a word. “May I ask you a question, Mr. Drahar?” she asked, trying to waste time. The man nodded and Jocelyn quickly looked at her father and Erryk. They would soon have to engage in a duel to the death. “Why did the Triarchy sin by greed? You could have negotiated terms with Westeros that were advantageous to you from the start,” the man laughed nonchalantly at her and motioned for his men to move on. “Why settle? Why limit yourself when you can have so much more?” In another life she would have patted him on the shoulder and agreed. Two roars tore through the sky. Caraxes and Seasmoke appeared in all their might. They swooped down over the caves and suddenly everything was green. Heartbreaking screams and a foul stench rose to the sky. Hundreds of corpses fell noisily into the water from the caves. The four surviving men of the Crabswallower turned back, while the man with the grayscale let out a heartbreaking scream. “You filthy whore!” and a fist hit Jocelyn’s face. She fell backwards into the water. Lord Lyonel and Erryk drew their swords, ready to rush to the girl’s aid, but were stopped by the other four men. Strong stood up, ignoring her bloody nose, and pulled Rebel from her scabbard. She waited for the man to attack her first and then she pushed the uppercut away. The man was furious, and that worked to Jocelyn's advantage. He fought with rage and was therefore blinded by the goal of revenge. Sooner or later he would make a mistake. The girl attempted a backhand that was furiously blocked by the man, then she thrust her sword towards the man's shoulder. The man moved just in time. By then Erryk and his father had already killed two men. The man spun around and thrust his sword at the girl's leg, the thrust was blocked and pushed away. Then with all her strength, Jocelyn slashed at the man's leg, hitting him and causing a deep gash. The man avoided the pain and kicked her in the stomach, knocking her to the ground. In that moment, the last two men of the man were dead. The Prince Admiral struck her in anger on the right side. A searing pain spread through her body, as if a cannonball had exploded inside her. She placed a hand on her side trying to stop the flow of blood, and as she did so she saw the man from the Free Cities run away. Her father ran to her. He knelt on the ground and took her head in his hands, caressing her face. Jocelyn had never seen him cry so much. "I'm sorry, my child, I'm sorry..." "Why are you apologizing, father?" Erryk reached them with a pale face and shaking hands. He tore off a corner of his white cloak and placed it on the young Strong's wound. "I didn't protect you, Jocy..." the woman smiled calmly at her father. "It looks like you two already give me up for lost. It's just a cut, father. And you protected me, you know it. I hurt the Feeder Crab’s leg, if you left me and chased him you might catch him,” he said before his face twisted in pain. Damn, it hurt. “No! I won’t leave you alone again… Let’s leave, I meant that we both, me and her father, won’t leave her alone again… My Lady,” Erryk stammered with his head down. Sooner or later Lord Lyonel would have some conversation with that young man. Caraxes landed on the beach raising a large cloud of dust and Prince Daemon ran to them. When he saw Jocelyn bleeding he smiled proudly, but he didn’t fail to look worried. He whistled and some of the Velaryon men came to the beach. He ordered them to carry the “valiant Lady” to the infirmary tent and then turned to the woman. “Where is the Feeder Crab?” Jocelyn raised her arm and pointed to the Prince’s right. “He ran to that cave,” she said. Daemon started to leave, but Strong grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. "Break that bastard to pieces, my Prince." "At your command, my lady." The Targaryen gave a mock bow and ran in the direction the woman indicated. While his father was helping her onto the Velaryon men's stretcher, Ser Erryk had stepped aside and continued to watch the scene almost in a trance. He understood Lord Lyonel, he too felt completely guilty. He had failed in his duty as a sworn shield and he hated himself a little for it. He knows that he was busy fighting with the other two men, but for a moment he had been distracted and now she was there, white as a sheet and bleeding. Yet she did not fail to smile and dictate orders left and right. He envied the girl's father, who could hold her hand and caress her face. Without any risk and without having to hide anything. Suddenly he heard himself called, he looked up and met Jocelyn's. She signaled him to come closer. "Erryk could you get me that big shell?" she asked him with a sweet smile. He took the shell and even though he did not know the reason for the request, he offered it to her. She took it and turned it in her hands, then placed it to her ear. She could hear the sound of the waves of the sea. Jocelyn placed a hand on Erryk's cheek, caressing it. The man melted into a smile, despite a solitary tear that was running down his face. "Could you save this shell for me? I promised my little Aegon a gift,' and then she fainted.

When Jocelyn opened her eyes, she was very upset to find that two days had passed since the duel with the Crabs. The Grand Maester who had treated her had explained that the wound had been followed by an infection that had forced her to bed for two days, due to a high fever. At first they had feared for her life, but after the right treatments and some milk of the poppy it was clear to everyone that it would not be a small cut that would kill the youngest of House Strong. The only negative note was that she would be left with an ugly scar on her right side for life. 'A scar in exchange for my stay in this life... That seems acceptable to me,' the young woman replied, unfazed by her soft, now patched skin. Her father sat to her left, holding her hand. He had never left her bedside, and for that matter neither had Laenor Velaryon. “You really gave us a scare, Lyn,” the Sea Serpent’s son said with tears in his eyes. Jocelyn braced herself on her elbows and hugged him, then kissed him on the cheek. “Lenny, you’ll never get rid of me that easily.” After a while Prince Daemon entered the tent, smiling brightly and holding a bouquet of wild flowers. He handed it to Jocelyn and then smiled at her. “The Crab-Nutrier?” she asked, eyeing it anxiously. “In pieces. Split in two there on the beach. As you requested, my Lady.” “Oh Gods! But I didn’t mean it. He takes life a little too dramatically.” “It’s much more fun that way.” At that precise moment Ser Erryk Cargyll entered the tent. When he saw Jocelyn in good health, his face relaxed and he took on a much more relaxed pose. He had spent the last two days sleepless, out in the medical tent keeping watch. He walked over to her and took her hand, kissing it. "I am glad to see you awake and well, my Lady," then he gave her the shell he had chosen for Prince Aegon. She hugged and thanked him. "If you are done with this engaged-to-be-married nonsense, I say we return to King's Landing. Glory awaits us, Lady Strong," Prince Daemon said before leaving the tent.

Author's space :

Heeey, how are you? I hope so. This chapter is a little shorter than usual, but it's a quick one. Do you like it? What do you think? Write it in the comments if you like.

Until next time 💜