Storm's End was not the largest castle in Westeros, but it was undoubtedly one of the strongest.
For thousands of years, it had stood against raging storms, invasions, and wars without ever truly falling. The ancient bloodline of the Storm Kings, House Durrandon, had once ruled there, their lineage eventually ending with the proud King Argilac. After their fall, their legacy passed into the hands of House Baratheon.
Storm's End stood proudly beside the sea. Coastal regions naturally gave birth to powerful towns and fortresses, and throughout Westeros, the great cities had all risen through maritime strength—King's Landing, Oldtown, Lannisport, Gulltown, and White Harbor alike owed their prosperity to the sea.
The castle's seaward walls rested atop pale cliffs that towered nearly twice as high as the outer defenses. At the base of the cliffs lay an ancient tunnel leading beneath the castle itself, once used as the hidden dock of the Storm Kings. Massive gates guarded the underwater passage.
But navigating it was nearly impossible.
Only during high tide could ships pass through safely, and even then, violent waves threatened to destroy careless sailors. Only the most skilled captains dared attempt the journey.
The thunder of hooves echoed across the road as Gendry rode toward Storm's End.
Dressed in black armor and mounted upon a powerful black warhorse, he looked every inch a king born from war and storms. Beside him rode Daenerys Targaryen upon her silver mare, radiant beneath the afternoon sun.
Beautiful black wicker baskets crafted by skilled artisans from Myr hung from their saddles. Curled inside them were sleeping baby dragons.
The black dragon and white dragon followed closely behind Gendry, while the green dragon flew above Daenerys.
"What a well-matched pair," many whispered among themselves.
"They look just like King Robert in his youth… perhaps even taller."
The black-haired, blue-eyed descendant of the storm rode beside the silver-haired, violet-eyed descendant of old Valyria.
Though still young, both had already stepped onto the battlefield of kings and power.
Their future burned brightly like wildfire.
Meanwhile, Renly Baratheon's fate had already become as fragile as a dying candle flame. After his farewell with the Knight of Flowers, he would be sent to the Wall.
Behind Gendry rode his bannermen.
Jon Snow and Anguy carried the banners of the storm. The sigils displayed a strange union of stag, dragon, direwolf, and the Free Folk.
The Red Priestess rode alongside one of Stannis's loyal followers, both carrying the banner of Dragonstone high into the wind.
Gendry understood the Red Priestess's importance within Stannis's faction.
Dragonstone lacked powerful generals and wealthy nobles. Stannis had always relied heavily on a few key figures—the Red Priestess, Davos Seaworth, and a handful of loyal men.
As the group advanced, murmurs spread among the people of the Stormlands.
"Why are there wolves?"
They were referring to Jon Snow's direwolf, Ghost.
The beast's fur was pure white, while its eyes glowed red like fresh blood. Yet after sensing the presence of dragons, Ghost had become noticeably calmer.
Even magical creatures recognized hierarchy.
And dragons stood above all others.
Still, Ghost's mere presence frightened the horses.
Following behind were Lady Catelyn Stark, Lord Stannis Baratheon, Ser Cortnay Penrose, Lord Estermont, and many other nobles of the Stormlands.
The great houses followed one after another—Tarth, Caron, Morrigen, and many more.
Compared to them, the mercenaries and minor knights from Dragonstone seemed insignificant.
Stannis quietly observed the scene.
"My brother had a gift for inspiring loyalty," he thought.
"And perhaps his son has inherited that same talent."
Many of these lords had once sworn themselves to Renly, yet now they served Gendry as though they had followed him all their lives.
Daenerys gazed at Storm's End with fascination.
"So this is Storm's End…"
From afar, the castle had seemed massive.
Up close, it appeared overwhelming.
Its gigantic walls rose like a clenched stone fist challenging the heavens themselves.
"Yes, Princess Daenerys," Ser Cortnay said respectfully.
The aging knight was bald, with a weathered face and a thick red beard. Across the Stormlands, he was known as an honorable and experienced commander.
"Interestingly enough," he added, "we may even share distant blood ties."
Daenerys blinked curiously.
"We do?"
"One of Ser Cortnay's ancestors married a Targaryen princess centuries ago," Stannis explained bluntly. "Though the connection is distant."
Stannis's dry tone nearly ruined the moment.
Still, when speaking of dragon blood, House Baratheon was indeed among the closest noble houses connected to the Targaryens.
Ser Barristan chuckled softly.
"If we're discussing royal blood, many commoners in the Stormlands also claim descent from House Baratheon."
"Ronan Storm supposedly had twenty-three wives and ninety-nine sons."
"Thousands now claim storm king blood because of him."
Ronan Storm was a legendary bastard king of House Durrandon.
A fierce warrior and infamous womanizer, he had overthrown his own brother, King Morden Durrandon II, and seized the throne for himself.
Legend even claimed that Morden's widow personally placed the crown upon Ronan's head before later sharing his bed.
Ser Cortnay suddenly laughed.
"How did the man survive so many wives?"
Everyone burst into laughter.
After the laughter died down, Gendry asked seriously,
"How many soldiers can the Stormlands raise?"
Ser Cortnay answered immediately.
"Between twenty and thirty thousand."
"The Stormlands have many knights and lesser lords, but the total population is relatively small."
"The terrain is harsh—mountains, forests, and constant storms."
He continued explaining as they rode.
The Stormlands were filled with dense forests such as the Kingswood and Rainwood, while the Red Mountains bordered Dorne to the south.
Though not wealthy, the people of the Stormlands were famous for their toughness and warlike nature.
For centuries they had fought against Dorne, the Reach, and even the Riverlands.
"The Stormlands can be defended by controlling key passes," Ser Cortnay explained further.
"The Kingswood route is protected by Copper Gate."
"In the Marches, Nightsong and Stonyhelm guard the mountain paths leading toward Dorne."
"As for the sea, Tarth and Estermont provide naval defense."
Gendry listened carefully while observing the soldiers surrounding him.
The warriors of the Stormlands were strong and disciplined, but many lacked large-scale military training due to distance and limited wealth.
Without a capable commander, such an army could quickly descend into chaos.
As they approached the castle gates, the grandeur of Gendry's procession became even more apparent.
Chainmail clinked loudly beneath the sun.
The noble lords wore magnificent armor decorated with gold, silver, feathers, and jeweled crests representing their houses.
Compared to them, both Gendry and Stannis dressed plainly.
Stannis wore only simple wool and leather armor.
Gendry's black scale armor lacked decoration, and his golden cloak remained modest. Only the crimson ruby embedded in the hilt of his sword drew attention, glowing beneath sunlight like a living flame.
Finally, the massive gates of Storm's End opened before them.
That night, a grand feast was held within the great hall.
Warm steam filled the air alongside the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread.
Countless banners hung from the walls, though the banners of Gendry and Stannis dominated the hall.
Before the feast began, Stannis and Ser Cortnay carefully introduced every major lord and knight of the Stormlands to Gendry.
It was a rushed lesson in politics and loyalty.
Upon the high platform sat Gendry, Daenerys, Stannis, Ser Cortnay, Catelyn Stark, and the elderly Lord Estermont—the maternal grandfather of Robert, Stannis, and Renly.
Then the herald began announcing the arriving nobles one by one.
"Lord Bryce Caron of Nightsong!"
Lord Caron entered proudly wearing golden garments embroidered with the black nightingale sigil of House Caron.
Once loyal to Renly, he had already abandoned Renly's green colors.
"Ser Donnel Swann, heir of Stonehelm!"
Ser Donnel entered next.
The emblem upon his chest displayed two fighting swans—one black and one white.
House Swann was ancient, powerful, and cautious.
Though Donnel had supported Renly, his younger brother Balon Swann currently served Joffrey in King's Landing.
Balon was considered the more talented brother—a master of spear, mace, and bow alike.
Then came another announcement.
"Lord Selwyn Tarth and Lady Brienne of Tarth!"
Brienne of Tarth entered beside her father.
Tall and broad-shouldered, Brienne lacked conventional beauty.
Yet her eyes remained honest and pure.
Lord Selwyn had attempted countless times to arrange a marriage for her, but every match failed in the end.
Though wealthy and kind-hearted, he possessed only Brienne as his heir.
Gendry studied the father and daughter carefully.
Unlike many ambitious lords, Selwyn had remained relatively distant from the Baratheon civil war.
His age and peaceful nature left him uninterested in political struggles.
Yet his support for Gendry now carried enormous value.
More lords followed.
The Morrigen brothers.
Lord Haywood Fell.
Many knights and bannermen entered the hall one after another.
Still, one important house remained absent.
Lord Beric Dondarrion was still struggling for survival within the Riverlands.
Meanwhile, House Connington had fallen into ruin after Jon Connington's exile.
Once all the lords had assembled, goblets were finally raised.
The feast officially began.
Gendry had changed into clothing of black, gold, and red.
The famous sword Orphan-Maker hung at his side.
His sharp smile and unmatched martial reputation had already spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms.
Beside him, Daenerys appeared breathtakingly beautiful.
Her silver-gold hair shimmered beneath candlelight, while her violet eyes glowed like gemstones.
The hall erupted with cheers.
"Long live the Storm!"
The title referred not only to Gendry.
Daenerys herself was Stormborn.
Gendry and Daenerys rose together, and the entire hall followed.
"Long live Storm's End!"
"Long live Storm's End!"
Though somewhat dishonorable, many nobles had already forgotten Renly completely.
Now they had a far stronger choice before them.
A warrior unmatched across the realm.
The terror outside Riverrun.
The nightmare of the Kingslayer.
The most powerful young warrior in Westeros.
The lords were not fools.
Once, Renly had simply been their only option against Stannis.
But now Gendry existed.
And he carried the blood of Robert Baratheon.
As the cheers echoed across the hall, Gendry understood what they truly celebrated.
Not only him.
Not only victory.
They celebrated King Robert.
Lord Steffon.
The ancient Storm Kings.
The bloodline of Durrandon and Baratheon alike.
All of them were storms.
Jon Snow sat quietly nearby, lost in thought.
Back in Winterfell, during King Robert's feast, he had sat at the lowest table as a bastard.
At the time, he had even dreamed of joining the Night's Watch.
Now he served Robert's son and sat among nobles.
"How strange life is," he murmured.
Anguy handed him a cup of wine.
"Drink."
Nearby, the Red Priestess spoke softly to Qyburn.
"This castle is ancient."
"Magic still lingers within its stones."
"Even my shadows cannot pass through these walls."
Qyburn narrowed his eyes curiously.
"The shadows you summon… are they creatures of darkness?"
The Red Priestess smiled faintly.
"No."
"Shadows are servants of light."
"Only the brightest flames create the darkest shadows."
Qyburn lowered his voice.
"And what price must be paid to create such shadows?"
"Life," she answered calmly.
"Only death can pay for life."
"Only fire burns eternal."
Qyburn glanced toward Gendry.
"You desire the Storm's flame, don't you?"
The Red Priestess remained silent.
Of course she desired it.
Gendry possessed terrifying strength and overwhelming vitality.
To sacrifice such a flame to the Lord of Light would create unimaginable power.
But Gendry clearly sought his own destiny, not blind devotion.
Suddenly, a chair scraped loudly across the floor.
All eyes turned.
Brienne of Tarth stepped forward into the center aisle.
Under her father's encouraging gaze, she knelt before Gendry and Daenerys.
Her voice rang clearly through the hall.
"Prince Gendry."
"Princess Daenerys."
"I ask to become one of your Stormguard."
"I swear my sword, my shield, and my life to you."
"I will follow you to the ends of the earth and protect you from all harm."
Silence filled the hall.
Every noble stared at the maiden of Tarth.
At the woman so devoted to the ideals of knighthood.
Gendry and Daenerys rose together.
Then both spoke solemnly.
"Accepted, Lady Brienne."
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)