Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
ASOIAF and all of its characters belong to GRRM
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 114: The Iron Price
Joffrey's smile widened, his green eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched the one-eyed pirate lord struggle to maintain his composure. The horn rested against his shoulder, its weight serving as a satisfying reminder of the chaos he had just wrought.
"And... who may you be?" he repeated, his voice carrying a note of deliberate provocation.
Euron Greyjoy's face contorted with fury, his single blue eye blazing with barely contained rage. He had come to Astapor expecting to intimidate a young, naive queen, to bend her to his will with promises of ships and threats of power. He had not expected to be robbed of his most valuable treasure by a golden-haired stranger who dared to ask his name.
"I am Euron Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, King of the Salt and Rock!" he snarled, his voice rising with each word. "And you have stolen from me! That horn belongs to me by right of salvage! I sailed the Smoking Sea! I risked my life to find it! I killed men to keep it!"
Joffrey raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged. "You sailed the Smoking Sea. You found a dead Valyrian's treasure. You killed men to take what was never yours." He paused, his smile widening. "That's not salvage, Lord Greyjoy. That's grave robbing. And I'm not sure the rightful owner would appreciate your claim."
Euron's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "How did you get it? My men would have stopped you! I had guards-"
"Ah, yes," Joffrey interrupted, his voice casual. "Your guards. They did try to stop me. There was a large man…a bull of a man, really. Broad chest, flat stomach, huge hands. He came at me with an axe." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "He was quite skilled. But not skilled enough."
Euron's face went pale, the color draining from his cheeks. "Victarion..."
Joffrey nodded. "Is that his name? He fought well. I almost felt bad about killing him." He shrugged, the gesture dismissive. "Almost."
"You killed my brother…" Euron said, his voice sounding low and dangerous.
"I killed a man who tried to kill me," Joffrey corrected. "If you want to split hairs about it, he started it. And after he fell, the others came. Dozens of them. They were very persistent." He smiled, a cold, mirthless expression. "I had to kill them all."
The cabin fell silent. Euron stared at Joffrey, his eye burning with hatred.
Jorah's hand was still on his sword, his face a mask of shock. Even Tyrion seemed taken aback, his mismatched eyes fixed on his nephew.
"So…that's what all that noise was about," Tyrion said slowly, his voice carrying a note of dark realization. "The commotion outside. The shouting, the clashing of steel. Looks like your men weren't having fun after all, Lord Greyjoy. They were being slaughtered."
Euron's jaw tightened, and his eye began twitching. "You…killed my brother. You killed my men. You raided my ship and stole my treasure. And you stand here as if you have done nothing wrong?"
Joffrey shrugged again, the gesture infuriatingly casual. "I didn't steal anything. I recovered stolen property. This horn," he said, tapping the ancient artifact, "was taken from Old Valyria without the permission of its owner. It doesn't belong to you. It belongs to her."
He turned to Daenerys, his green eyes meeting her violet gaze. "I believe this belongs to you. It's Valyrian. It's a relic of your ancestors. It should have been yours all along."
Daenerys's eyes widened, her composure cracking for just a moment. She had not expected this, had not expected Joffrey to claim the horn for her, to position her as the rightful heir to the power of Old Valyria.
Euron took a step forward, his voice rising with fury. "That horn is mine! I found it! I earned it! You have no right-"
"Earned it?" Joffrey interrupted, his voice cold. "You stole it from a dead man. You killed for it. You plundered it from a corpse. That's not earning. That's thievery." He smiled, a predatory expression. "And if you want to talk about rights, Lord Greyjoy, maybe we should discuss the Iron Price. You Ironborn are always going on about it. Take what you want with steel and blood. Well, I took what I wanted. And I'm keeping it."
Euron's face twisted with fury. For a moment, he seemed on the verge of exploding, of lunging at Joffrey with nothing but his bare hands. But then his expression shifted, a cold calculation replacing his anger.
"You think you've won," he said, his voice low. "You think you've beaten me. But you haven't. The Iron Fleet is still mine. My ships are still mine. And when you reach Westeros, you will find that the Iron Islands do not forget, and we do not forgive."
He reached into his coat, his hand moving with the speed of a striking viper. A blade appeared in his grasp, a thin, wickedly sharp dagger that gleamed dangerously. He lunged at Joffrey, his eye blazing with murderous intent, the blade aimed at Joffrey's throat.
Those present let out a gasp of shock at the sudden development.
It was all over in an instant.
Joffrey's hand shot out, his fingers closing around Euron's wrist with an iron grip.
There was a sickening crack, the sound of bone breaking, and Euron screamed as his wrist snapped like a dry twig.
The dagger clattered to the floor, and Joffrey shoved him backward, sending him tumbling across the cabin.
Euron crashed against the wall, his face pale with pain, his broken wrist hanging at an unnatural angle. He stared at Joffrey, his eye wide with shock and disbelief.
"I believe this concludes our negotiations, Lord Greyjoy," Daenerys said, her voice cold as winter steel. "You don't seem to have much else to offer."
Jorah stepped forward with a satisfied smile on his face. "The Queen is right. You came here with threats and demands. You brought a weapon to a meeting you agreed to attend unarmed. You have proven yourself to be exactly what we expected…a pirate and a liar."
Tyrion nodded. "And a rather inept one at that. You lost your most valuable treasure, your brother, and a good portion of your crew in a single afternoon. That's impressive, in its own way."
Varys spoke, his voice smooth and measured. "The Lord of the Iron Islands has shown his true colors. He is not a man to be trusted, nor a man to be feared. He is a man to be pitied."
Lyssara's pale eyes burned with inner fire as she glared at Euron. "I can tell this man's fate without the need for flames. He is not the conqueror he believes himself to be. He is nothing but a shadow, one that is already fading into oblivion."
Euron pulled himself to his feet, his broken wrist held against his chest, his face a mask of pain and fury. "You think you've won," he spat. "But I still have my ships. The Iron Fleet is still mine. And you-"
"You will surrender half of your fleet as payment for your offense," Daenerys interrupted, her voice carrying a note of absolute authority. "Fifteen ships. You will leave them here, in Astapor, as recompense for your threats and your dishonor. And you will also leave behind the horn, which belongs to my ancestors."
Euron stared at her, his eye wide with disbelief. "Half my fleet? That's-"
"That's generous," Joffrey said, his voice carrying a note of dark amusement. "I would have taken all of them. But I suppose the Queen is more merciful than I am." He paused, his green eyes gleaming. "Of course, if you'd rather pay the Iron Price, we could settle this another way. I have no objection to killing the rest of your men and taking what I want."
Euron's face went pale, his fury warring with his fear. He had seen what Joffrey could do and knew that the boy was not bluffing.
"You will leave the ships," Daenerys said, her voice final. "And you will leave Astapor. And if you ever threaten me or mine again, Lord Greyjoy, I will not be so merciful."
Euron stared at her for a long moment, his one eye burning with hatred. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, Joffrey made a sharp gesture toward the door.
Two Unsullied guards stepped forward, their spears leveled at Euron's chest. They moved with efficiency, seizing him by the arms and forcing them behind his back. Euron cried out in pain as his broken wrist was jostled, his face contorting with agony.
"You will remain under our custody until the terms of our agreement are met," Daenerys said, her voice sounding cold. "Your ships will be surrendered to my command. Fifteen vessels, fully provisioned. Once they are in my possession, you will be free to leave with the remainder of your fleet."
Euron's eye blazed with fury, his lips curled into a snarl. "You cannot keep me prisoner! I am the Lord of the Iron Islands! My men will not stand for this!"
"Your men will do as they are told," Joffrey said, his voice carrying a note of dark amusement. "Or they will join your brother in the sea. The choice is theirs."
Euron struggled against the guards, but the Unsullied held him fast. He was beaten, humiliated, and trapped, and he knew it.
<><><>
Hours later, the transfer of ships was complete. Fifteen of the Iron Fleet's vessels now belonged to Daenerys Targaryen.
The remaining ships sat at anchor, their crews watching with sullen resentment as Euron was escorted to the docks.
He was bruised and battered, his broken wrist bound in a makeshift splint, his pride wounded beyond measure. The Unsullied released him at the water's edge, and he stumbled onto the gangplank of his flagship, turning back to face them one last time.
"This is not over," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You have made an enemy of the Iron Islands. When you return to Westeros, you will find that the sea remembers. And when you least expect it, I will have my revenge."
Joffrey stepped forward, his green eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "Be careful with your threats, Lord Greyjoy. It would be a shame if one of the Queen's dragons were to get lost and wander into the Iron Islands. They can be so... destructive when they're confused."
Euron's face went pale, the threat clear. He opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again. There was nothing he could say. He had been beaten, humiliated, and robbed, and he knew it.
Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the depths of his ship. Moments later, the remaining Iron Fleet raised anchor and sailed out of Astapor, their black sails disappearing over the horizon.
Joffrey stood at the prow of the Storm Dancer, his eyes fixed on the departing ships. Daenerys appeared at his side, her silver-gold hair gleaming in the fading light. She was silent for a moment, her violet eyes fixed on the horizon.
"It seems that the things you need the most keep falling into your lap," Joffrey said, his voice carrying a note of amusement. "First the Unsullied, now a fleet. You must have earned the grace of some god."
Daenerys turned to him. Then she smiled, a soft, knowing expression. "Yes," she said, her voice quiet. "I think I did."
A.N: - Remember to comment, vote, and/or leave a review if you have the time. Those things help me a lot and I would really appreciate it.
You can support me on P@treon if you like and get 10 advanced chapters. You can also find character images to view for free in Collections/Got: Sorcerer Prince Images
-patreon.com/Kriogenix
For donations and commissions, go to ko-fi.com/kriogenix