The morning air over Crab's Bay was sharp and cold, the sea wrapped in a thin silver mist as dawn broke over the quiet harbor near the Dreadfort. War clouds were gathering across the realm, and trade had slowed to a trickle. Few merchant vessels dared sail these waters now. The peninsula was poor to begin with, and with conflict looming, commerce had nearly vanished altogether.
Into this bleak harbor came a flamboyant sight.
A Tyroshi ocean merchant ship cut through the gray waters like a crimson flame. Its hull was painted in gaudy red lacquer, trimmed with gilded carvings along the prow. Two long rows of oars lined its flanks, and three tall masts carried unfurled sails that snapped in the sea wind. It was not alone—several swift escort ships accompanied it, each carrying armed men.
At the bow stood Gendry.
Tall, broad-shouldered, and steady as iron, he gazed toward the barren peninsula ahead. Pine forests stretched across the hills, broken by marshlands and dark valleys. Each valley held its own lord, and these lords trusted no outsiders. Most were descended from the First Men and held tightly to their old ways.
Gendry disembarked first.
The moment his boots struck the dock, all eyes turned to him. His height alone set him apart, but it was more than that—he carried himself like a man born for battle. His presence radiated strength without effort.
Behind him came Anguy, grinning as always, followed by five hundred elite cavalrymen.
Like their commander, the soldiers wore black scale plate armor polished to a dull sheen. Their cloaks were golden but quartered with two sigils: the once-hated leaping stag and the three-headed red dragon facing one another. History had twisted in strange ways, and even the Crab Peninsula men found the sight ironic.
Awaiting them were the local forces.
Ser Mortimer Boggs stood at the forefront, flanked by representatives from House Thorne, House Bren of Brownbarrow, House Bren of Dreadfort, House Cafferen, House Crakehall, House Hardy, House Payne, and several smaller houses.
They had gathered what men they could—older warriors with scarred faces, raw-boned youths barely grown into their armor, and even burly women gripping longspears. Their reputation as "semi-savages" came from their fierceness and stubborn independence. The War of the Usurper had drained them of many strong young men; now they fought with what remained.
"Your Highness," Ser Boros said, bowing, "the armor you sent has been distributed."
Gendry surveyed the gathered ranks. Black-scaled soldiers stood like a dark forest beneath the pale sky. Their longspears gleamed coldly.
"Very good," he said.
The Crab Peninsula men studied him openly. Tales of Gendry's victories had crossed the Narrow Sea—his battles against Myr, the slaying of Khal Drogo, the conquest of two cities. Some whispered he was invincible, a warrior rivaling Aegon the Conqueror himself.
"Your Highness, welcome to the loyal Crab Peninsula," Ser Mortimer said, kneeling.
Gendry immediately bent to lift him up.
"I have seen your loyalty. Rise."
He proceeded to greet each lord personally, committing names and faces to memory. He understood the importance of such gestures. Letters built alliances; shared words built devotion.
"Jak Crakehall," said a young, broad-shouldered man with brown hair and fierce eyes.
"Arryn Bren of Brownbarrow."
And so it continued.
The King's charisma was undeniable. Even hardened men felt stirred by it.
The Crab Peninsula had long been neglected by King's Landing. It was poor, rugged, and difficult to govern. Taxes were light, oversight lighter still. But resentment simmered beneath that neglect—especially toward House Lannister.
"Ser Boros led us in striking down the Mountain," Jak declared. "We'll send Tywin his own grief in return."
"Let Lannister howl!"
"Down with the traitors!" roared the crowd.
Among their enemies, Lannister stood foremost—ruthless and treacherous. With King Robert dead and dragon and stag reconciled, vengeance seemed inevitable.
"Your Highness," Ser Boros said, "two thousand five hundred cavalry stand ready. Riverboats are prepared for transport."
They were elite vanguard forces, though not the peninsula's full strength.
"Excellent," Gendry replied. "Our ally has not yet arrived."
Soon enough, sails appeared on the horizon.
The fleet from the Vale entered the harbor under disciplined formation. Leading them were Ser Barristan Selmy and Bronze Yohn Royce. Behind them came Michel Redfort and Mauls Grafton, followed by one thousand knights of the Vale.
The Vale's soldiers were immaculate—well-equipped, disciplined, mounted on strong horses. Orange cloaks of House Royce stood beside the red cloaks of Redfort and Gulltown.
Yohn Royce surveyed the Gold Cloaks with approval. Their silence, posture, and steady gazes spoke of hardened veterans.
"We are here, Your Highness," Yohn said. "We departed from Runestone to avoid detection. That caused delay."
"You chose wisely," Gendry replied.
Michel Redfort stepped forward. "My father sends his regards."
"I know of you," Gendry said with a faint smile. "Through my sister Mia."
Michel flushed slightly.
Mauls Grafton offered a sealed envelope.
"My father's gift."
Inside were details of Littlefinger's network—agents, deployments, secrets. A dangerous gift indeed.
"We have always been loyal to the true King," Mauls said carefully.
"And I will remember it."
Gendry surveyed the gathered commanders. Quality mattered more than numbers. The Vale's forces were reliable and disciplined.
"Feed the men first," he ordered.
Yohn frowned slightly. "Time presses."
"I know," Gendry replied calmly. "But hungry soldiers fight poorly."
Thus, ships unloaded salted meats, pears, dried fruits, candy, and milk. The Crab Peninsula contributed hot bread, roasted pork, and fish. Alcohol was forbidden, but the men feasted heartily.
Gendry ensured even honeyed lemonade was distributed—a rare luxury for common soldiers.
Officers and nobles ate the same food as the rank and file. The unity was not lost on anyone.
But harmony proved fragile.
A shout broke out.
"Savage!"
"Sheep-lover!"
A Crab Peninsula warrior and a Vale knight shoved each other violently.
Old grudges resurfaced quickly. The Vale had been the Andals' foothold; the peninsula men were mostly First Men. Blood and resentment ran deep.
Gendry stepped forward.
"Silence!"
His voice cut through the camp like a hammer strike.
The two young men froze.
"Bring my warhammer."
A murmur spread as the massive weapon was dragged forward. It had been reforged to match Gendry's increasing strength—far too heavy for ordinary men.
"You first," Gendry said to the Vale knight.
The young man strained, face reddening, barely able to lift it.
"Two hands?" he asked weakly.
Still impossible.
The Crab warrior fared no better.
Laughter erupted.
Gendry stepped forward.
With one hand, he lifted the enormous spiked warhammer.
He swung it in smooth arcs, steel whistling through the air. The display was effortless, terrifying.
Yohn's eyes widened.
Even Ser Barristan looked stunned.
Then cheers exploded across the camp.
"Long live the warhammer!"
"Long live Gendry!"
"Long live the King!"
But Gendry was not finished.
He ordered five apples impaled on longspears and placed five hundred yards away.
Then he lifted his dragonglass bow.
Without hesitation, he drew and fired.
One arrow.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Anguy rode out to retrieve them.
Each apple had been pierced dead center.
A collective gasp swept through the army.
Five hundred yards was no small distance. Such accuracy required not only strength but superhuman precision.
Gendry handed the pierced apples to the two former brawlers.
"Eat."
They obeyed, humbled.
Gendry climbed a raised platform.
"We march to relieve Riverrun and defend the innocent," he declared. "Will you curse one another over petty insults?"
"No!" came the thunderous reply.
"Will you fight as one?"
"Yes!"
"Do you pledge me as your King?"
"Yes!"
"Will you obey my command?"
"Yes!"
Their roar shook the shoreline.
In that moment, division vanished.
Strength had spoken.
Power had persuaded.
"Then march," Gendry commanded.
"To the Riverlands!"
And the united army moved as one.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)