The Stormlands had always been a land of wind and thunder. Dark cliffs stretched along the Narrow Sea, where waves crashed endlessly against the rocks and storms rolled across the horizon without warning. The wind carried the smell of salt and rain through every valley and castle. The people of the Stormlands were used to storms. But the storm now approaching Westeros was not made of wind. It was made of rumors.
Inside the great hall where the lords of the Stormlands had gathered, tension filled the air like the calm before lightning. Torches burned along the stone walls while the banners of the crowned stag hung high above the chamber. Around a long wooden table sat the most powerful lords of the Stormlands, men who had fought in the wars that shattered the Seven Kingdoms and men who remembered dragons.
At the head of the table sat Lord Gendry Baratheon. The last Baratheon. His black stag banner stood behind him, its golden crown gleaming in the firelight. Gendry rested both hands on the table as he listened carefully while the voices around him grew louder.
"We should stand with the crown," said Lord Fell, striking the table with his fist. "The realm already suffers division. Supporting the king is the only way to prevent chaos."
Across the table, Lord Swann shook his head slowly. "Prevent chaos? The realm is already chaos."
A murmur of agreement spread across the chamber. Another lord leaned forward and spoke quietly.
"The crown watches everything. Every letter. Every alliance. Every movement."
"You speak of the Watching King," Lord Fell replied.
"Yes," the lord said. "And my concern is simple. A king who sees everything may decide everything as well."
Several men shifted uneasily in their seats. The Stormlands had never loved silent rulers. Baratheons ruled loudly. They shouted. They fought. They bled beside their soldiers. But a king who simply watched the world unfold from a throne unsettled many of the gathered lords.
Gendry finally raised a hand.
"Enough."
The chamber quieted slightly.
"You did not ride through storms to argue like fishermen."
Lord Swann leaned forward.
"Then answer the question, my lord. What does the Stormlands stand for?"
Gendry did not answer immediately. Outside the hall, rain began striking the high windows as another storm rolled in from the sea.
"The realm is dividing," Lord Fell continued. "The Reach whispers of dragons. The Iron Islands prepare their fleets. And the North remains silent behind its snow."
Another lord spoke quietly.
"And Dorne watches."
The name carried weight through the chamber. Dorne rarely rushed into war. When Dorne watched, it meant they were waiting for the right moment.
A young knight finally spoke.
"And if the rumors are true?"
Silence spread through the hall.
Gendry looked toward him.
"What rumors?"
The knight hesitated.
"The dragon."
Several men exchanged uneasy glances.
"Stories come from the Narrow Sea," the knight continued. "Sailors swear they have seen Drogon flying above the ruins of Valyria."
Lord Fell scoffed.
"Sailors also swear they see sea monsters."
"But these stories grow stronger every week," the knight insisted.
He hesitated again before finishing.
"And if the dragon lives… then perhaps the Dragon Queen lives as well."
The torches flickered as wind pressed against the walls of the hall.
No one spoke for several moments.
Finally Lord Swann leaned forward slowly.
"If Daenerys Targaryen lives…"
He stopped there.
He did not need to say more. Every man in the room understood the rest.
Dragons meant war.
Lord Fell shook his head.
"She burned King's Landing."
"And yet many still call her a liberator," another lord replied.
The debate began again.
"She was a tyrant."
"She freed thousands."
"She destroyed a city."
"She ended slavery."
Another lord spoke quietly.
"That depends on who rules now."
The room fell silent again. Some men feared the return of dragons. Others feared the power of a king who could see everything.
Gendry rubbed his forehead slowly.
"You speak as if the world offers simple choices," he said.
"No choice in war is simple."
Lord Swann nodded.
"That is exactly the problem."
He looked around the chamber.
"If the dragon truly lives, every lord in Westeros will soon be forced to choose. The crown or the dragon."
Another voice rose from the far end of the table.
"And what does the Stormlands choose?"
Gendry stood slowly.
The hall became silent again as the storm outside grew louder.
"I fought beside Jon Snow," Gendry said quietly. "And I saw the Dragon Queen with my own eyes."
The lords listened carefully.
"She was not a monster."
Some frowned.
"But neither was she a savior."
Gendry turned slightly toward the windows where lightning flashed across the dark sea.
"She was something far more dangerous."
"What?" someone asked.
"A force."
The chamber remained silent.
"A force that believed the world must change."
Lord Fell crossed his arms.
"And what if that force returns?"
Gendry looked back toward the gathered lords.
"Then the Stormlands will not rush into war."
Several men frowned.
"You would wait?"
"Yes."
"And if the crown demands loyalty?"
"We will give it."
"And if the dragon returns?"
Gendry's voice lowered.
"Then we will listen."
The chamber erupted again.
"That is not an answer!"
"It is the only answer we have!"
Thunder rolled across the sky as lightning flashed beyond the cliffs.
The Stormlands had survived countless storms before.
But the storm approaching Westeros would not come from the sea.
It would come from the sky.
Gendry walked slowly toward the window and stared into the darkness.
Because somewhere beyond that horizon, a dragon had been seen.
And if the dragon truly lived…
Then the next storm would burn hotter than any the Stormlands had ever faced.