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SLW Chapter 76 : Storms Kneel
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 21:48:14 +0000 UTCThe skies above KingsLanding were vast and painted in gold, the sun beginning its descent behind the jagged mountains. High above, two great shadows cut across the sky Drogon and the Cannibal soared through the clouds, their wings beating with thunderous rhythm.
Aeron sat astride the Cannibal, the dark beast gliding with an eerie silence despite its massive form. Behind him, Daenerys rode Drogon, her silver hair trailing behind.
She called out over the roar of the wind. “You knew.”
Aeron turned his head slightly, hearing her even amidst the rush of air.
“You knew they would try something,” she said.
Aeron gave a nod. “I expected it from the moment I saw Tywin Lannister’s chair empty.”
Daenerys flew closer, Drogon drawing level with the Cannibal.
“You saved my life,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I didn’t thank you for that.”
Aeron’s gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “You are my Queen after all, had you drank that cup, they would’ve toasted to your death before the sun had set.”
Dany’s jaw tightened. “I expected you to kill them.”
Aeron’s response came low, deliberate. “I wanted to. But not like that.”
She gave a humorless laugh. “Because of what the public will say?”
“Yes,” Aeron said. “Because the songs won’t say ‘they defended themselves after they were about to be poisoned.’ They’ll say ‘they slaughtered their hosts under truce.’”
Daenerys frowned. “Why should we care what they say? Let them choke on their songs.”
Aeron finally turned, standing tall upon the Cannibal’s back. His black cloak rippled like shadow in the wind.
“You do well to care what the people say of you,” he said, his eyes fixed on her. “If you mean to rule over them in peace.”
Dany was quiet.
Aeron continued, “It’s true, we are strong. Stronger than any king or queen before us. We could burn every keep, silence every lord, bury every name that opposes us… But you’d be left ruling over ash and bone. Over silence. Over corpses, not men.”
The wind carried his words between them like an oath carved in smoke.
She said nothing.
Then, with a suddenness that startled even Drogon, Aeron leapt into the sky his body soaring across the gap between the Cannibal and Drogon . Daenerys’s eyes widened as he landed with impossible precision on Drogon’s back.
He crouched low, stepping toward her, the wind tugging at his hair. He leaned in, close enough that only she could hear him.
“Don’t worry about anything,” he whispered.
Then he kissed her.
It was brief. Soft. A moment of warmth amidst the cold sky.
Before she could speak, he pulled back and said, “Return to Dragonstone.”
Daenerys blinked, surprised. “And what about you?”
Aeron turned his head toward the Stormlands. “I’ll take care of business,” he said. “Grey Worm and Raya await me. The shadows have already whispered of our victory.”
Drogon gave a low growl, sensing Aeron’s intent.
“The Cannibal will fly with you all the way to the island, nothing can harm you.”
Daenerys narrowed her eyes. “And you? How will you...”
But Aeron was already moving. He stepped to the edge of Drogon’s back and then fell.
Freefall.
The air tore past him as he dropped like a spear hurled from the heavens. Daenerys reached instinctively, her heart clenching, but Aeron looked up and smiled mid-fall.
“FEAR NOT” his voice echoed up to her. “I DON'T NEED A FLYING BEAST… TO GET WHERE I WANT TO GO.”
And then he vanished into the clouds below like a shadow descending upon the realm.
Daenerys remained still, the wind pulling at her cloak, her heart pounding.
Behind her, the Cannibal let out a long, thunderous shriek and together, the dragons turned toward the Narrow Sea.
****
THE STORMLANDS – NIGHTSONG
The stone floor was still wet with blood.
Aeron emerged from the shadows of the arched hallway, his boots echoing against the cold stone as he stepped into the ruined great hall of the keep. Torchlight flickered against soot-streaked walls, casting dancing silhouettes of armored figures his shadow knights, grim and silent, their eyes burning faintly like coals in the dusk. Among them stood the Unsullied, disciplined and still, spears held upright like rows of iron trees.
And at the center, leaning against the long table that had once seated lords, was Raya.
Her leathers were dust-stained, her braid wild from battle. She turned the instant she saw him and let out a breath of relief, flashing a rare smile.
“Aeron,” she called. “You’re here.”
He returned her smile with one of his own, faint but warm. His gaze swept across the hall bodies, both armored and noble, lay strewn in various corners. Some had died fighting. Others, clearly, had died kneeling too late.
His voice came calm, casual. “Where are we, exactly?”
Grey Worm stepped forward, armor still marked with blood. But before he could answer, Raya let out a sharp laugh.
“Of course you don’t know...” she said, shaking her head. “You just appear out of nowhere and expect the world to announce itself to you..”
She stepped toward him, gesturing to the banners above, tattered but still bearing black nightingales on yellow. “We’re in Nightsong. The last stronghold of the Stormlands.”
Aeron’s expression shifted in realization. “Ah… that explains why my shadows notified me. You really took the entirety of the Stormlands, Good job.”
He looked beyond the broken doors, past the charred courtyard and into the red dusk where hills met the horizon.
“Beyond here, my King.” Grey Worm finally spoke, his voice measured and grim. “Lies either the Reach... or Dorne, and we were ordered by the Queen to take the Stormlands alone.”
“Did any of the lords here bend the knee peacefully?” Aeron asked without turning.
“None,” Grey Worm said, shaking his head. “Everyone answered with steel.”
Aeron let out a low chuckle. “Too bad. And here I thought the Northerners were the stubborn ones.”
Raya grinned. “Seems the Stormlanders believe they were born in the storm and can withstand anything.”
Aeron stepped forward, his cloak billowing behind him like a living shadow. “I’m sure they will not think like that moving forward, they learned that there’s a storm far stronger than theirs.”
He looked to the blackened remains of the high seat of House Caron.
“A Storm that will only grow stronger..”
Aeron stepped forward, running a hand across the splintered table before him. Shadows flickered along the cracked stone walls behind him his knights unmoving, unbreathing, a silent testament to his dominion. His gaze shifted toward Raya once more.
“Tell me,” he said, voice low but expectant. “How did my shadow knights fare in battle?”
Raya gave him a look that was half amusement, half awe. She exhaled, pulling off her gloves as she approached him.
“Ruthless,” she said plainly. “Too ruthless, even. You told me they didn’t tire, but I didn’t know you meant it literally. They were far stronger than the last time I saw them.”
She began to pace slowly as she spoke, her voice rising with each word. “There was a moment at the western gate one of the lords tried to rally a charge. Spurred his men forward. Seventy, maybe more. Well-armored, riding hard. One of your shadows stepped into the path alone. Just soldier. No shield. Just a dark sword in each hand and eyes glowing violet like yours.”
She stopped, eyes bright.
“He didn’t move until the horses were nearly on him. And then… he carved through them like they were nothing, just men with sticks. Cut them from their saddles with a single stroke. I saw him pierce a knight through his helm with a downward thrust splitting steel like soft cheese.”
Aeron chuckled quietly, but Raya wasn’t done.
“I barely had time to draw my blade, Aeron. They cleared the courtyard before I could lift my damn finger. The Unsullied tried to keep pace, but… they were a step too slow. Always.”
She turned toward Grey Worm, eyebrow arched. “Even Grey worm here would admit as much.”
Grey Worm didn’t flinch, only gave a single nod.
“They kill without hesitation. Without mercy,” he said. “Even after the enemy tried to surrender.”
Aeron’s eyes gleamed at that, pride flickering like embers in his expression. He looked to his knights, lined in silence, then back to the others. A sharp laugh escaped his lips dark and satisfied.
“Good,” he said simply. “As long as innocents are safe it’s all good, I mean I did order them to be merciless against everyone else.”
He turned, cloak flaring as he strode toward the blackened doors of Nightsong’s ruined great hall. The shadows moved with him like loyal hounds.
“Gather your strength,” Aeron called. “We march west toward the Reach. I want our banners seen before the sun sets again.”
Raya frowned, catching pace beside him. “The Reach? Already?”
Aeron didn’t slow. “Depending on what answer I receive from the old lion in the Rock… I may take the capital next. So we need to be quick about this.”
He paused at the threshold, his violet eyes narrowing at the horizon.
“And I want all of you with me when I do.”
