The Stony Shore.
The cold wind cut like knives, carrying the salty scent of the sea and the bitterness of defeat.
Euron stood atop a black reef, his single eye fixed on the dark, churning Sunset Sea.
Behind him were only a few dozen surviving Ironborn, their clothes tattered, their bodies covered in wounds.
Most of the crew of the Silence had died alongside Victarion at Bullhorn Mountain. The rest had scattered, their fate unknown.
"Captain Euron,"
A ship captain with a fresh scar across his face stepped forward.
"Are we really going back to the Iron Islands to answer for this? King Balon..."
Euron suddenly turned, his lone eye blazing with a feverish light, as though the defeat at Bullhorn Mountain meant nothing at all.
"Go back?"
He let out a low, rasping laugh.
"We are not going back to answer for anything. We are going back to begin a new age."
The scarred captain frowned, completely confused.
They had suffered a disastrous defeat. Nearly a third of the Iron Islands' strength had been lost in the North.
If they returned, Balon might flay them alive and feed them to the fish. And yet Euron spoke of a new age.
Euron noticed his expression and smiled faintly.
"You think the North has won?"
He spread his arms and pointed toward the distant northern horizon.
"They are blind. Just like you."
"They guard their forests and castles, yet they know nothing of the beast sleeping at their doorstep."
The Ironborn exchanged confused looks.
Euron's eye gleamed with greed and madness.
Lowering his voice, he spoke as if revealing a great secret. "Do you know why we invaded the North?"
He did not wait for an answer.
"It was to reach Skagos."
"Skagos?" the scarred captain asked, puzzled. "Why go to that island of savages?"
Euron chuckled softly, his gaze burning as he looked northeast. "Because there are dragons there."
Dragons.
The word struck the Ironborn like thunder.
"Yes, dragons," Euron said, his voice low and seductive.
"The Targaryens held dragons, and with them they ruled the Seven Kingdoms for centuries."
"If we control dragons, what does today's defeat matter? When that day comes, the entire world will kneel before us."
The Ironborn's eyes lit up with greed, already imagining a future of conquest.
Euron smiled faintly, satisfied.
"But..."
His tone suddenly turned cold.
"With so few men and broken ships, can we break through the North's defenses and seize that power?"
"We cannot."
He swept his gaze across them, a faint killing intent hidden in his eye.
"We must change our strategy. No more bleeding for frozen stones in the North."
"We will fight for something greater. Power that can rule the world."
"We take a longer but safer route. We sail around Westeros, up through the Narrow Sea, and land directly on Skagos from the sea."
After repeated failures, even the thought of Galon stirred an unfamiliar fear within him.
It was a feeling he could not accept.
So he placed all his hope on dragons.
"When I take that power, I will make you watch as I destroy everything you hold dear. Your home. Your family."
At that moment, Euron had never hated anyone as much as he hated Galon.
But one of his men hesitated. "Will King Balon agree? Lady Asha is still a prisoner in the North."
Euron's lips curled into a cruel smile.
"I will convince him."
"For an opportunity like this, he must agree. And if he cannot see beyond a few stone castles..."
He paused, his eye filled with chilling intent. "Then he is unfit to lead the Ironborn into greatness."
His meaning was clear.
No one spoke against him.
After such a defeat, they were bound together now.
"Return to Pyke at once," Euron ordered. "I will have a long talk with my dear brother."
As Euron made his way back to the Iron Islands, in the dungeons of Winterfell, Sansa waited for Asha's answer.
Sansa wore a dark dress, her young face composed with the dignity of an acting ruler.
Yet her slightly swollen eyes betrayed the grief she had endured in recent days.
"Lady Greyjoy," Sansa began, her voice steady. "I hope you have thought things through."
Asha raised her head, her eyes sweeping over the young Stark girl before forming a faint, mocking smile.
"Thought things through?"
"You mean how to beg for mercy from the people who defeated me, killed my uncle, and destroyed the Iron Fleet?"
Sansa shook her head.
"This is not begging. It is about ending meaningless bloodshed. You already know the truth about your brother Theon's death."
"If you write to your father, this war can end. It serves no purpose for the Iron Islands."
"King Robb..."
"King Robb?" Asha interrupted sharply.
She caught the title immediately.
A flicker of realization crossed her eyes.
"Ah... so something has changed in the south. That's why you're so eager for peace."
She quickly grasped the situation and tried to regain some leverage.
Sansa did not deny it. "Yes. We need to stabilize our position. But this is also an opportunity for you."
"We can exchange prisoners."
"And if the Iron Islands recognize King Robb and cease their attacks on the North..."
"Then we will recognize King Balon and allow him to raid the Westerlands. Their gold is far more valuable than our furs."
Asha fell silent.
Deep down, she already knew the truth.
With Victarion dead and Euron defeated, the Ironborn campaign had collapsed.
Unless her father used the Dragon Horn to control dragons, he would likely be forced to compromise.
After a long moment, she sighed. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. "You're right, Lady Stark."
Sansa's eyes brightened.
"So... what is your decision?"
Asha's gaze flickered as Galon's image appeared in her mind.
"I will write the letter," she said slowly. "I will urge my father to accept the exchange and consider your terms."
She paused and stared directly at Sansa.
"But before I do, I want to meet someone."
Sansa blinked.
"Who?"
"Galon Glover."
Asha's eyes were filled with something complex.
"The man who captured me at Deepwood Motte and defeated my uncle at Bullhorn Mountain."
"I need to know what kind of man I am surrendering to."
She looked at Sansa with a faint trace of disdain.
As the daughter of Balon Greyjoy, she would not bow to a child. Even if that child was a Stark.
Sansa hesitated.
"Galon... Lord Galon is still campaigning. I cannot summon him back immediately."
"I can wait," Asha said firmly. "I will write the letter when I see him. Otherwise, there will be no agreement."
She crossed her arms, her stance unyielding. It was both pride and strategy.
She wanted to judge Galon for herself.
Sansa thought for a long moment.
The request was difficult, but not impossible. Once Galon secured Moat Cailin, he would return to Winterfell sooner or later.
"I will send word to Lord Galon," Sansa finally said. "But until then, you must honor your word and prepare the letter."
Asha nodded slightly.
"Agreed, Lady Stark."
Sansa turned and left the dungeon.
Until matters were settled, she believed it best to keep Asha imprisoned.
Meanwhile, the man at the center of their negotiation, Galon, was still on the road back to Winterfell with the Reed siblings.
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