Disclaimer: This is a story based on ASOIAF Universe and all recognizable characters, plots belong to GRRM. I have no ownership to it.
Chapter 67: War and Love II
The Sunset Sea
Lyanna Mormont
Lyanna was thankful for her enhanced body and breathing capability as her first kiss with Benjen was broken by the murmurings of their spectators and their increasing consternation. Reluctantly, Lyanna pulled away from the kiss, as their very lives were still in danger and they needed to ensure that their remaining men did not die.
Lyanna, who was still in Benjen's arms, was as relaxed as one could be when her entire body was injured and covered in blood and seawater. For not the first time, she silently thanked her father and his blessings, the only reason she was still alive. She had never been this badly injured in her life, and for the first time she could actually feel the effects of her body reconstituting itself. Her own healing, combined with two doses of her father's blood, had enhanced her recovery to a near-miraculous level. Yet she knew the only reason she was not unconscious was because her bonded bear was constantly eating to sustain her energy through their bond.
With only a brief glance through her warg bond, she saw the gigantic bear, her longest companion, devouring an entire whale inside one of the Mormont warehouses. The great beast paid no attention to anything around it, consuming the massive carcass with relentless determination as workers wisely kept their distance.
With a sigh, she smiled faintly at Benjen before moving away from his embrace. The very next moment, she groaned in immense pain as every movement sent agony through her battered body.
Benjen immediately reached out to support her, but she stopped him with a glare.
Swallowing the pain, Lyanna slowly forced herself to stand straight, drawing loud cheers from her men. They had seen the condition she was in and understood the sheer determination it took for her to remain on her feet.
"Our crazy father never warned me how much pain he went through," Lyanna snapped. "Did he warn you?"
She looked toward Benjen.
Benjen simply shook his head.
"He never said anything like that."
"Lady Lyanna, I am glad that you are safe," Lord Lannister finally said loudly.
Only then did Lyanna properly acknowledge those gathered around her. The battered flagship bore the scars of battle, its deck littered with broken timbers, shattered shields, snapped ropes, and dark pools of blood that mixed with the seawater washing across the planks. Exhausted sailors and soldiers leaned against whatever support they could find while others hurried to tend the wounded.
Lyanna noticed Benjen hiding a proud smirk as he looked toward Lord Lannister, and it took several heartbeats before she understood why. There was a slight hint of jealousy in Lord Lannister's expression, and Benjen had recognized it immediately.
"Thank you, Lord Jason," Lyanna replied with a nod, though she regretted the physical movement a heartbeat later as another wave of pain shot through her body.
"My Lady," Captain Jorah stepped forward.Lyanna smiled warmly at Jorah, genuinely happy that he had survived until now, though the smile vanished the moment he spoke.
"My Lady, Lord Snow wishes us to flee like cowards from the kraken and the Iron Bastards. Command us what to do, my lady."
Lyanna frowned at his tone but decided to let it pass for now. They had far greater troubles before them.
She looked through Silverwing's eyes to examine the battlefield and grimaced at the amount of damage her fleet had already suffered. Ships burned across the sea while others drifted crippled, their broken masts leaning at unnatural angles. Bodies floated between wreckage, and the sea itself had turned dark with blood, ash, and shattered remains.
Returning to her own senses, she looked around the flagship before finally meeting her captain's eyes.
"I am afraid Lord Benjen is correct, Captain. This is not running away. It is a strategic retreat that will cost us far less than it will cost the Ironborn. The kraken is still attempting to attack the dragons, following them beneath the water as they fly overhead."
She paused before continuing.
"It is only the preservation of Ironborn ships and lives that is preventing the kraken from doing to us what it did to me. It could easily throw one of their own ships at a dragon just as we prepare to blast it with dragonfire before attacking from behind the vessel. We all know the Ironborn have no regard for the lives of their own subordinates. The moment whoever commands this fleet realizes that the destruction of his fleet is inevitable while our own ships continue to survive, the kraken could begin attacking us indiscriminately."
"It is the bastard of Hoare," Lord Jason said. "It is Harlan Pyke. My men managed to make one of the bastards brag that killing us would be his achievement and allow the other Ironborn lords to declare him their new Lord Reaper. It was also his flagship that sank own."
"The bastard has stayed away from the fighting while watching us kill Ironborn for years, and now he interferes. Has he finally turned mad?" Benjen snarled in anger.
"It does not matter what he was thinking or whether he has gone mad," Lyanna said with surprising calmness, all the while slowly moving her joints and testing the limits of her battered body. "He made his move and decided to target a dragon. He is commanding a kraken, a beast of unnatural power. I will mount Silverwing and descend upon their flagship to take him prisoner. We can force him to order the kraken away."
"No."
Benjen's immediate interruption surprised everyone aboard the ship.
Captain Jorah snapped his head toward the bastard, almost opening his mouth to protest, but Lyanna raised her hand and silenced him before he could speak.
She simply looked at Benjen inquisitively, studying his face more closely than before.
"Why, Benjen?" Lyanna asked hurriedly.
"I do not think the bastard alone is commanding the kraken, Lyanna. When I dived after you, we were losing, and I had to use warging to attack the beast's mind. Even then I was repelled with frightening ease and needed Vermithor's own power before the kraken finally released you and Silverwing. Even then, something of monstrous strength answered my attack mentally, Lyanna. It was something even you would not have been able to defend against, and perhaps only our father could."
Benjen spoke in Valyrian because he did not wish to reveal that greater wargs than his own family existed. Even without understanding the language, everyone standing nearby clearly feel the horror and lingering fear in Benjen's voice.
Lyanna remained silent as she desperately searched for any solution that would not abandoning the battle. Eventually, she sighed in defeat and slowly nodded.
She looked toward Captain Jorah.
"Captain, Jason, you heard Benjen. There is too great a risk of defeat if our ships remain here. Send the order to retreat. We will take to the skies on our dragons and ensure that the Ironborn cannot pursue us. We would, however, be exceptionally interested in meeting this enemy bastard. Even if someone else truly controls the kraken, I am certain the bastard serves as the eyes above the water, identifying our ships and directing how the dragons should be attacked. Where was your flagship sunk, Jason?"
Jason indicated the approximate location across the battlefield, and both Benjen and Lyanna nodded in understanding.
The order to retreat toward the shore was quickly passed throughout the fleet. Despite their losses, the surviving ships executed the maneuver with remarkable discipline, turning southeast and pushing every remaining sail to gain speed while making certain they reached the safety of the coastline as quickly as possible.
==================================
Harlan Pyke
Harlan Pyke woke choking for breath.
For several terrible moments, he did not know where he was. Darkness surrounded him completely, pressing against his eyes from every direction while icy seawater filled his nose and mouth. His body reacted before his mind did. He kicked violently as his hands clawed through the water while panic surged through him. Then his head broke the surface, and he dragged a ragged breath into burning lungs. Water poured from his mouth as he doubled over, coughing so violently that his chest ached. The world spun around him. His vision swam. He heard shouting somewhere nearby, but the words seemed distant and distorted, as though he remained half-submerged beneath the sea.
"The Drowned God returns him!"
"I told you all! I was correct, you faithless cowards."
"The blessing worked!"
"The Lord Reaper lives!"
The voices slowly became clearer.
Harlan blinked seawater from his eyes and realized he was inside a large wooden barrel filled nearly to the brim with seawater. Rough hands grabbed him beneath the arms and hauled him upward. His boots struck the rain-soaked timbers of the deck a moment later, though his legs immediately threatened to collapse beneath him. He stumbled against the side of the barrel while seawater streamed from his clothes. Several drowned priests stood nearby with expressions ranging from triumph to religious ecstasy. Around them crowded his captains, warriors, and surviving officers, every pair of eyes fixed upon him as though they had witnessed a man return from death itself.
Perhaps I did die.
The thought lingered in his mind longer than it should have.
His eyes were bloodshot. Every heartbeat drove another spike of pain through his skull. It felt as though someone had hammered iron nails behind his eyes. He raised one hand toward his forehead and immediately regretted the movement. The headache intensified so sharply that he nearly collapsed again. Blood mixed with seawater dripped from one nostril. His fingers trembled uncontrollably, and even standing upright required considerable effort.
Fragments of memory slowly returned to Harlan's mind.
The Kraken.
The battle beneath the waves. Lyanna Mormont.
Silverwing.
The bastard dragonrider intruding just as Harlan had been on the verge of victory.
At first they were only disconnected images. Tentacles larger than longships. Dragonfire burning beneath the sea. The crushing pressure of the deep. Then he remembered the itself.
He had spent so long inside the kraken's mind that portions of its thoughts still lingered within his own. The creature's endless hunger. Its fury. Its instinctive hatred toward anything that challenged its dominion over the sea.
Most of all, he remembered Lyanna Mormont.
The kraken had wanted to crush her.
Again and again, he had felt the creature tightening its grip. It would have reduced her to mangled flesh within moments had he not constantly redirected its instincts. Even controlling the beast had demanded enormous effort. The kraken was not a horse, a wolf, or any ordinary animal. It was ancient. Vast. Its thoughts did not flow like those of mortal creatures. They were primal instincts stretched across centuries, driven by endless hunger, territorial fury, and the crushing certainty that everything beneath the sea belonged to it.
Then another mind had appeared without warning.
Harlan closed his eyes as the memory of the pain resurfaced.
The bastard dragonrider and his cursed Vermithor. The son of the Cursed King. Harlan laughed bitterly as he didn't even know which bastard son it was as the king had many bastards.
The attack had come suddenly and with a ferocity that still unsettled him. The boy had somehow broken through layers of mental defenses that should have stopped any ordinary skinchanger. Even Harlan had been overwhelmed by the sheer force of the intrusion.
Yet that was not the part that haunted him. Something else had entered the battle. At first, he had not understood what he was feeling. The clash between minds had become so chaotic that distinguishing one presence from another was nearly impossible. Even amidst that chaos, however, something had emerged that dwarfed all three of them.
Harlan opened his eyes and stared blankly across the deck. It had taken him several heartbeats to understand what had happened beneath the sea and what was happening around his fleet.
The Drowned God had been there inside the kraken's mind.
Not in a vision.
Not in a prayer.
Not through faith alone, but in Presence.
For a few terrible moments, Harlan had felt something unimaginably vast observing the struggle. Even now, he struggled to describe it. The kraken had felt insignificant before it. The bastard dragonrider had felt insignificant. Harlan himself had felt smaller than a grain of sand resting upon the ocean floor. Whatever had entered that battle between minds existed upon an entirely different scale, something so ancient and immense that merely remembering it left him cold despite the exertion still burning through his body.
"My lord?" one of his captains stepped forward cautiously.
"My lord, what happened?" another immediately asked not be overshadowed. "What are your orders? The fleet awaits your command."
The fleet.
Harlan finally forced himself to look around, his stomach tightening as he took in the devastation surrounding him. The battle was already lost. The sea stretched endlessly in every direction, yet wherever his eyes wandered he found only destruction. Burning wrecks drifted upon the waves while some ships listed heavily, exhausted sailors desperately struggling to keep them afloat. Others were already sinking, their sterns slowly disappearing beneath the water as survivors clung to shattered planks and floating debris. Smoke rolled across portions of the horizon, mingling with the low clouds overhead until the sky itself seemed stained by battle, and the smell of burning timber, blood, wet canvas, and dragonfire hung heavily in the air.
His fleet no longer resembled an armada. It resembled a graveyard. Dead men floated between broken hulls, splintered masts protruded from the sea, and shattered sails drifted aimlessly across the waves. Harlan recognized the remains of several captains' flagships merely from fragments of painted hulls floating amongst the wreckage. His jaw tightened as the truth settled in—years of preparation, years spent gathering support, years devoted to building this armada, all gone in a single battle.
He turned his gaze toward the northern fleet. The surviving Mormont and Lannister ships were already withdrawing, moving with urgency rather than triumph as their sails strained against the wind in a desperate attempt to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the battlefield. Then Harlan understood why, and his gaze lifted toward the heavens.
Both dragons still remained in the sky.
Silverwing and Vermithor circled high above the sea, unwilling to leave wounded prey behind. Their scales were stained with blood, tears scarred portions of their wings, and neither dragon looked close to death. If anything, they looked enraged. A torrent of dragonfire descended from the sky and engulfed one of his surviving ships, men hurling themselves overboard in desperation while others vanished beneath the flames before they could even scream. Moments later, Silverwing swooped low and crashed into another vessel, her claws tearing through sails, rigging, and men alike before she climbed back into the air.
Far beneath them, the kraken continued its futile attempts to retaliate. Enormous tentacles erupted from the sea repeatedly, sending towering walls of seawater crashing across the battlefield as the creature lunged again and again toward the dragons exactly as it had beneath the waves. It never came close. The dragons had learned caution.
The realization should have filled him with despair, but instead he felt strangely calm. Perhaps he had already exhausted his capacity for grief, or perhaps his mind had truly been broken by the Drowned God.
One of his men silently offered him a bottle, and Harlan accepted it without hesitation. The brandy burned its way down his throat as he drank deeply before lowering the bottle. The pounding inside his skull eased slightly—enough not to disappear, but enough for coherent thought to return.
His eyes drifted once more toward the sea, toward the kraken. The beast still lived. That changed everything.
A slow smile spread across his face. The northern fleet might have won the battle, but they had not escaped yet. The kraken remained fully capable of destroying every ship still afloat. The creature cared nothing for victory or defeat; it cared only for feeding and killing the dragons. What better way to force the dragons into a mistake than by slaughtering the men and ships they had come to protect?
If Harlan could regain control… if he could reconnect with the beast's mind… the battle might still end in mutual destruction. The thought pleased him immensely.
His captains continued demanding orders, but Harlan ignored them. He stepped toward the railing and stared into the dark waters below. Somewhere beneath those waves swam the greatest weapon he had ever possessed. All he needed was one successful connection.
He closed his eyes and reached outward with his thoughts.
Then a roar shattered the sky.
The sound struck with enough force that every man aboard the flagship instinctively looked upward. Harlan opened his eyes immediately, every instinct he possessed screaming that something was wrong. The dragons were descending, but not toward the fleeing fleet. They were coming directly toward his flagship. His stomach tightened as the dragonfire he expected never came. Instead, he caught movement upon Vermithor's back. Two figures stood atop the Bronze Fury, balanced against the rushing wind as they prepared to jump. The realization struck him instantly. They were not coming to destroy the ship. They are coming for him.
Harlan had only enough time to curse before Vermithor swept overhead. The Bronze Fury passed directly above the flagship, so low that the heat radiating from the great dragon washed across the deck, forcing several Ironborn to duck instinctively while others simply stared upward in naked terror. The sails snapped violently beneath the force of Vermithor's passage, and for one brief moment the entire flagship seemed to shudder beneath the presence of something so vast.
Then the two figures leapt.
Harlan could not clearly see their faces. Blood clouded his vision, and seawater still stung his eyes, but there was no need to identify them. Yesterday, There was only one man who was insane enough to attempt such a thing; The Bastard King. Now, on this battlefield only his children remain to follow that insanity.
Lyanna Mormont and whoever the bastard boy is. Harlan couldn't believe that the bear bitch could even move after how she was wrapped by the tentacles of the kraken. No wonder The Drowned God asked for the dragon's death. Both the beasts and human are inhuman monstrosities.
They plunged through the open air with swords already drawn. Rather than falling directly onto the deck, both angled themselves toward the towering sails. Their blades punched through the thick canvas, and they clung to the hilts with both hands, using the resistance to slow their descent. Great tears ripped through the sails as they slid downward in a shower of shredded cloth, splintered spars, and loose rope. Several Ironborn archers loosed arrows the moment they appeared, yet none found their targets before the pair released their swords and struck the deck hard enough to crack the planks beneath their boots.
The nearest warriors rushed them immediately. Harlan recognized several veterans amongst them, men who had spent decades raiding the coasts of Westeros and lands beyond. One had survived battles against knights, wildlings, and pirates. Another carried scars fighting Summer Islanders. They were not inexperienced fools.
It made no difference.
The Bastard Boy met the first attacker with terrifying speed. His sword flashed once, and the Ironborn's axe never completed its swing. Blood burst from the man's throat before he even understood he had been struck. A second warrior charged from boy's flank, only for the bastard to step forward instead of retreating. Steel met steel. The Ironborn's sword shattered, and the Valyrian steel blade continued onward without slowing, opening his chest from shoulder to stomach.
Beside him, Lyanna Mormont proved no less deadly. She fought with a fury born from the battle beneath the sea. Her sword smashed a shield aside before opening its owner's neck. When another warrior attempted to seize her from behind, she drove an elbow into his face hard enough to shatter bone before gutting him with her next strike. Within moments, bodies already littered the deck around them, and the slaughter accelerated from there.
Warriors surged toward the pair from every direction, but none managed to delay them for more than a heartbeat. Every mistake became fatal. Every hesitation cost a life. Harlan watched veteran reavers die with alarming speed as the two dragonriders carved a direct path toward him. Blood mixed with seawater across the deck, turning the planks slick beneath every foot while screams and the clash of steel echoed throughout the flagship. Men stumbled over fresh corpses. Others forced their way forward only to die moments later. Through the carnage, the pair advanced relentlessly, their pace never slowing the growing mountain of bodies left in their wake.
With every corpse that fell behind them, Harlan felt a growing certainty settle deep within his stomach. These were no longer ordinary humans. He had heard stories about the king's children. Every captain throughout the Iron Islands had heard them. Most sounded wildly exaggerated. A young woman riding Silverwing. Children blessed by dragons, fortune, and an absurdly powerful father. Watching them now, Harlan finally understood why those stories endured.
Neither fought like ordinary warriors. Years of combat experience should have favored his men. Instead, his veterans looked slow. They looked clumsy. They looked utterly outmatched. Several Ironborn finally managed to surround the boy from three directions at once, attacking simultaneously in what should have been a killing blow. For a brief instant, Harlan believed they had him.
Then the bastard moved.
His body twisted between attacks that should have struck home. One blade missed him entirely. Another glanced harmlessly from his armor. The third shattered against Valyrian steel. Moments later, all three attackers lay dead upon the deck. One was missing a hand. Another was missing his head. The third desperately tried to force his spilling entrails back inside his body.
Hatred burned within Harlan as he watched.
The bastard was exhausted. Anyone with eyes could see it. His armor was damaged. Fresh wounds still marked his body from the battle beneath the sea. His breathing had grown heavier, and blood seeped from rents in his armor. Yet he continued fighting with terrifying efficiency.
Harlan immediately knew why. Daemon Targaryen's unnaturalness had been inherited completely. Even now, when the Drowned God had promised him victory and the king would be no more a problem, the Bastard King continued twisting the natural order of the world through his own bloodline.
Another roar thundered overhead before Harlan could dwell on the thought. Vermithor swept across the battlefield once more and unleashed dragonfire upon a nearby vessel. The ship vanished beneath the flames almost instantly, its masts and sails disappearing into a roaring inferno as burning debris scattered across the waves. Heat washed across the flagship despite the distance, and several Ironborn glanced upward instinctively. It was a fatal mistake. Lyanna killed two of them before their attention returned to the battle, her sword moving with such brutal speed that neither man managed to react before blood sprayed across the deck.
Harlan wanted to fight. Every instinct demanded it. He was Harlan Pyke, Lord Reaper of the Ironborn and chosen servant of the Drowned God. Yet when he reached for his sword, his hand trembled badly enough that he nearly dropped the weapon. Agony exploded behind his eyes, and his vision blurred as the battle of minds beneath the sea revealed just how badly it had damaged him. The memories of that terrible struggle still seemed to claw through his skull, leaving him struggling to remain upright. Even standing required considerable effort. Fighting was impossible, and the realization filled him with a helpless rage as he watched his men die while his fleet burned around him and his enemies continued advancing across his flagship.
"Protect the Lord Reaper!" one of his captains shouted.
The order finally galvanized those around him. Dozens of Ironborn surged forward simultaneously, throwing themselves into the path of the two attackers. For the first time since boarding the flagship, The Bastard boy and Lyanna actually slowed. The fighting intensified as warriors packed tightly around them, leaving barely enough room for anyone to swing their weapons properly. Axes, swords, and spears struck from every direction, while the crush of bodies turned the deck into a chaotic mass of steel, blood, and screaming men. For several moments, Harlan lost sight of both dragonriders entirely beneath the mass of struggling bodies. Blood sprayed across torn sails while men slipped upon corpses and fought desperately for enough room to move. The cries of wounded men mixed with constant ringing of steel as the defenders desperately tried to hold their ground.
Then the pair emerged once more from the chaos.
They were still advancing.
They were still killing.
They were still moving directly toward him.
Only then did Harlan fully understand the truth. There was no stopping these monsters in human form. The realization should have frightened him, yet instead it filled him with a strange sense of amusement. After everything that had happened, after the destruction of his fleet and the appearance of the Drowned God itself within the battle of minds beneath the sea, these two children still believed they could decide how this ended. Perhaps Lyanna Mormont wanted vengeance for being dragged beneath the waves. Perhaps the bastard boy wished to parade him before his father in chains. Perhaps they simply wanted the satisfaction of killing him themselves. Whatever the reason, neither of them had chosen the easy path.
They could have destroyed the flagship from above with dragonfire. They could have watched him burn alongside the rest of his men. Instead, they had descended into the heart of the battle and thrown themselves into the middle of hundreds of desperate Ironborn simply to reach him. The thought almost made him laugh. More warriors rushed forward to take the place of those who had fallen. They fought bravely, and Harlan would grant them that much. Not one of them hesitated. They charged despite seeing the corpses already covering the deck. They attacked despite knowing exactly what awaited them. The Ironborn had never feared death. They simply believed death should be expensive. Unfortunately for them, the bastard boy and Lyanna Mormont were paying the price willingly.
The distance between them continued shrinking. Thirty feet became twenty, and twenty became fifteen. Harlan could now see details that had previously escaped him. Blood covered both dragonriders, some of it belonging to their enemies and some belonging to themselves. Lyanna's face still carried bruising from her encounter with the kraken, while Benjen's armor looked as though it had survived a war all its own. Neither appeared untouched by the battle beneath the sea, yet both continued advancing with relentless determination. Harlan watched another knot of warriors attempt to stop them near the base of the mast. The bastard drove straight through the center while Lyanna moved around the side. Their coordination was effortless. Men who had fought together for years could not have moved more naturally. One warrior lost his head, another lost an arm, and a third was shoved directly into Lyanna's blade by the man standing behind him. Within moments, the entire group was dead.
Above them, the dragons continued their hunt. The roar of Vermithor rolled across the battlefield, and Harlan glanced upward just in time to see dragonfire descend upon another ship. Flames engulfed the vessel from bow to stern, turning the deck into a furnace as men threw themselves overboard in desperation while others simply vanished within the inferno. Silverwing was not far away. The silver dragon swept low across the waves before climbing again, her massive wings carrying her beyond the reach of the kraken's tentacles. The beast beneath the sea answered with fury, enormous limbs erupting from the water repeatedly and scattering foam and spray across the battlefield.
The kraken remained alive. Wounded, enraged, and trapped in an increasingly futile struggle against enemies it could no longer reach, the creature continued thrashing beneath the waves. Harlan felt a surge of frustration as he watched it. If he had only a little more time, perhaps he could reconnect with the creature. Perhaps he could still drag the surviving fleets into the depths. Yet every glance toward the advancing dragonriders reminded him that time was the one thing he no longer possessed.
"Lord Reaper!" someone shouted desperately.
Harlan barely heard the warning. His eyes remained fixed upon the approaching pair. Lyanna reached another group of defenders and simply bulldozed through them, the woman looking half feral as she tore through the men standing between her and their lord. One Ironborn struck her shoulder with an axe and received a sword through the eye for his effort. Another attempted to grapple her from the side, only to have his knee shattered by a kick before she slit his throat. Nearby, Benjen fought with a colder efficiency that somehow unsettled Harlan even more. There was no visible rage, no battle cry, and no wasted movement. Every strike existed solely to kill. A sword thrust became a corpse. A parry became a wound. A sidestep became another dead man left behind.
Watching him reminded Harlan uncomfortably of stories told about Daemon Snow in his younger years, the same stories many sensible men had dismissed as exaggerations. Perhaps they had been wrong. Perhaps the Bastard King's unnaturalness truly had been inherited by his children. Harlan had already witnessed enough to understand that whatever blood flowed through their veins, it was not entirely human. The thought should have horrified him, but instead Harlan finally laughed.
The sound emerged unexpectedly and immediately drew confused looks from those around him. Blood still dripped from his nose, his vision remained blurred, and his head felt ready to split apart, yet laughter came anyway. It began as a chuckle before growing into something harsher, something closer to madness. Several nearby warriors stared at him as though they were uncertain whether their lord had finally lost his mind. Perhaps he had. His fleet was gone, his plans were ruined, and his enemies stood aboard his flagship. What else remained except laughter?
"Fuck you!" Harlan shouted across the deck.
Neither dragonrider slowed.
"Fuck you and your cursed bastard father!"
That finally drew a reaction. Lyanna accelerated immediately, and the remaining distance vanished alarmingly fast. Harlan's laughter disappeared as the reality of what he had just done finally settled over him. The decision came naturally. He turned and ran.
Several of his men shouted in disbelief, while others immediately rushed to cover his retreat, throwing themselves directly into the path of the dragonriders. Harlan did not look back. There was no point. He already knew they would die. The only question was how many heartbeats their sacrifice would buy him. The railing appeared ahead through the chaos, and beyond it stretched the sea, dark and endless beneath the smoke-filled sky. It was dangerous, but it was not an uncertain outcome for him. It was infinitely preferable to remaining where he was.
Footsteps pounded behind him.
Far too fast.
Lyanna was almost upon him.
Harlan reached the railing and climbed onto it in a single movement. For the briefest moment, he balanced there while the wind whipped at his clothes. The battlefield stretched around him in every direction, filled with burning ships, dying men, dragons circling overhead, and the kraken still thrashing through the sea. It was the ruin of everything he had built. Slowly, Harlan glanced back.
Benjen Snow stood only yards away.
Lyanna Mormont was even closer.
Both had broken through the final defenders. Both looked ready to kill him where he stood, yet neither looked surprised by what he was doing. Harlan suspected they had expected this outcome from the beginning. A grin spread across his face. Neither chains nor would belong to them. Not today.
"Tell your father to go fuck himself." Harlan snapped once more.
Then Harlan jumped.
The wind tore at him immediately. For a single heartbeat, he experienced weightlessness before gravity reclaimed him, and the sea rushed upward with frightening speed. A moment later, he struck the water hard enough to drive every trace of air from his lungs.
Pain exploded through his body. The impact swallowed thought itself. Darkness surged forward from the edges of his vision.
The last thing Harlan Pyke heard before unconsciousness claimed him was the distant roar of dragons echoing across the graveyard of his fleet.
===============================
Lyanna Mormont
"Fuck!" Lyanna snapped as she pushed away Benjen's hand from around her waist, as it was the only thing preventing her from foolishly jumping after the Ironborn bastard. Lyanna looked at Benjen, who was entirely bathed in blood and gore, his armor covered in the remains of the men they had fought through to reach Harlan. She tried to stretch her body, but the movement immediately reminded her that the adrenaline was the only thing that had allowed her to fight through the pain, along with the fact that Benjen had been there beside her. The injuries she had suffered had not fully healed at all, and while the pain was bearable enough to continue moving, she knew she had pushed her body far beyond its limits.
"Now, Benjen, he escaped. What is the plan?" Lyanna asked.
"The plan remains the same," Benjen said with a sigh as he cleared his sword on the shirt of a nearby dead Ironborn. "The bastard seems to have suffered backlash from our mental battle, yet the kraken did not attack any ships because the bastard was in one of them. Now that safety is gone, our ships are distant enough. I and Vermithor will play bait. We will land on the remaining Ironborn ships one by one and make the kraken attack them to get at us all the while. After the ships are finished, I will fly towards the nearest shore while touching the water and making the kraken chase us."
Lyanna grimaced upon hearing the risky plan, but she nodded her acceptance because not killing the kraken was not even an option for them. Yet she still had one doubt.
"How will you make sure the kraken attacks the ship you are on?"
Benjen simply grinned at that, and for a moment Lyanna could see the same recklessness and love for danger that their father and she shared within Benjen. There was something familiar in the expression, something that reminded her of the way their family approached danger when the sensible choice would have been to stay away from it.
"I will attack the kraken mentally for a heartbeat whenever I am ready."
==============================
Lyanna watched as Benjen risked his life again and again. She and Silverwing flew in circles above whenever Vermithor made a ship its landing spot, watching carefully and prepared to dive and intervene against the kraken if necessary. Fortunately for them, only one intervention was needed, as Vermithor was a clever hunter who, true to his name as the Bronze Fury, possessed enough patience to lead his prey on and enjoy the hunt. Lyanna wondered whether the dragon had gained that trait from his previous rider, the old king, who had also possessed a controlled fury while reeling in his prey before finally destroying it.
The last Ironborn ship was destroyed through the combined efforts of the kraken and Vermithor, and Lyanna grinned even though she had to suffer the losses of her own men to achieve such complete destruction. She watched the kraken's massive body rise partially above the water, its enormous tentacles repeatedly trying to grasp Vermithor, who remained just beyond their reach. Vermithor eventually came abreast of Silverwing, and Lyanna could see that Benjen's eyes were blood red, with trails of blood running from his nostrils. Even Vermithor looked weary and tired from the effort expended throughout the battle.
Lyanna saw Benjen sigh before preparing to enact the second part of the plan. She made Silverwing roar in disapproval, causing Vermithor to stop his descent. Benjen looked surprised before realization appeared on his face, and he looked questioningly toward Lyanna. Lyanna simply shook her head before making Silverwing fly toward the nearest shore, a stretch of coastline she had already located through her birds. The kraken did not immediately follow her, and Silverwing was fast enough to create considerable distance between them.
After Lyanna judged that the distance was sufficient, she made Silverwing land upon the water and float upon the surface, allowing both of them a brief moment of rest. Lyanna kept an eye on the kraken, watching to see whether it would begin swimming toward their position, but the creature continued bashing through the wreckage rather than following them. The surrounding sea remained filled with broken ships and debris, while the distant battlefield continued to burn behind them.
Lyanna freed her mind completely by cutting her connections to all the warg animals nearby, leaving only Silverwing and her bear on Bear Island connected to her. With a deep breath, she dived toward the vast mind of the kraken.
The attack landed upon the creature's mind, and Lyanna immediately retreated, making certain that Silverwing's presence protected her mind from retaliation by the kraken and its owner. A loud roar pierced the sky from the enraged creature as it immediately turned and sped toward the place where she and Silverwing waited.
Lyanna grinned in anticipation as Silverwing slowly began flying, gaining enough height from the surface of the water to keep them safely above the waves. The bait had been laid, and the chase was on.
==============================
Lyanna did not know how much time had passed, but she finally reached the nearest beach shore. She looked up at the sky and could tell that dawn was quite near, although she could not determine the exact time. The stretch of shoreline had been deliberately chosen. The beach extended for miles in either direction without villages, fishermen, or any sign of habitation. Behind them rose low dunes covered in sparse grass and scattered rocks, and beyond those dunes stood a small hill.
Vermithor was already there, resting as he waited for their arrival and prepared for the upcoming battle. Silverwing landed, and Lyanna jumped down onto the sands. Silverwing growled at them before taking off from the ground and joining Vermithor. Benjen, who had been lying there, was already standing up when she approached.
"What is the plan?" Lyanna asked hurriedly without saying anything else. Both of them could feel the kraken approaching nearer and nearer through their warging.
Benjen replied instantly, "We will be the bait. When the beast reaches the shore, we will run toward the hill."
Even without Benjen pointing out the obvious, Lyanna could see the hill roughly five hundred meters away. She knew that it would be a lifetime away for the majority of people when a kraken was behind them, but for them, the distance could be covered by running.
Lyanna grinned, her eyes widening as her breathing became deeper. "It is here," she said. Lyanna, who possessed the wider warg sense, could already feel its approach. Benjen nodded at her, and they both stood with their hands clasped together while facing the ocean.
The shoreline appeared unchanged at first glance. Waves continued rolling toward the beach, spreading white foam across the dark sand before retreating once more into the water. The wind still carried the scent of salt and seaweed, while distant gulls circled overhead. Neither spoke. The plan itself had sounded simple when they discussed it: use themselves as bait, draw the kraken toward land, and kill it where the dragons could fight without the disadvantage of deep water. Standing upon the sand and staring out across the ocean, however, Lyanna suddenly found herself questioning whether any plan involving such a creature could truly be called simple.
The sea itself seemed to sense its arrival.
The first sign came from the birds. Hundreds of gulls abruptly abandoned the water and took flight, their cries becoming frantic as they climbed higher into the sky. A moment later, the seals resting upon distant rocks began throwing themselves into the water, only to swim desperately toward the shoreline rather than away from it. Even the fish behaved strangely. Schools of silver bodies repeatedly broke the surface in their haste to flee something moving beneath them.
Benjen noticed it as well.
"They know it is coming," he said quietly.
Lyanna nodded without taking her eyes from the horizon.
Far out at sea, the water began to change.
At first, the disturbance seemed insignificant. A dark patch appeared upon the surface, barely noticeable amidst the endless expanse of blue water. Then it expanded. Waves spread outward from the area in every direction while the ocean itself slowly began rising. It was not a single wave or a storm. An entire section of the sea appeared to be lifting upward.
The sight immediately unsettled her.
The bulge upon the ocean became impossible to ignore. Water rose higher and higher while waves rolled away from the center in expanding circles. The sea appeared swollen as something enormous attempted to force its way toward the surface. Even from miles away, Lyanna could tell the scale was wrong. Her mind kept trying to compare it to ships, whales, and dragons, only for each comparison to fail.
Lyanna felt every muscle in her body tighten. The shadow of the beast in the water dwarfed anything she had ever seen. During the battle at sea, she had witnessed only fragments of the kraken: tentacles, portions of its body, and brief glimpses through dark water and chaos. At the time, she had believed she understood the creature's size.
She had been wrong.
The shadow continued approaching the shore.
As it moved, the sea responded. Waves became increasingly violent despite the absence of any storm. Water churned and twisted around the submerged mass while enormous currents formed across the surface. Entire sections of the ocean appeared to flow around the approaching creature rather than over it.
Then the first tentacle emerged.
The ocean exploded upward.
Thousands of gallons of seawater cascaded back into the sea as a massive limb rose from beneath the surface. The tentacle continued climbing long after Lyanna expected it to stop. Dark flesh glistened beneath the overcast sky while rows of suckers lined its underside. Scars crossed its surface, some so large they appeared deeply carved into the living flesh.
A second tentacle followed, then a third and a fourth. The ocean around them churned violently as more and more limbs emerged from the depths. Each one was monstrous, each one possessed a thickness greater than ancient trees, and each one moved with disturbing purpose.
Water pulled away from the beach at an alarming pace. The shoreline expanded outward as more and more seabed became exposed. Fish flopped helplessly upon the wet sand while rocks and reefs hidden beneath the waves emerged into view. The ocean continued withdrawing until hundreds of yards of seabed lay uncovered before them.
The kraken was displacing that much water simply by approaching.
Neither Lyanna nor Benjen spoke. Words felt inadequate as they stood watching the creature approach, the exposed seabed stretching between them and the retreating water. A deep vibration travelled through the sand beneath their feet. Small stones bounced while shallow pools rippled violently, and somewhere in the distance, a section of cliff collapsed into the sea.
Then the creature finally revealed itself fully.
Dark greenish flesh emerged from the depths between the forest of writhing tentacles. Water poured from its body in torrents while great ridges crossed its hide and ancient scars covered every visible surface. The portion visible above the waterline alone rivaled castles in size, yet Lyanna instinctively understood that most of the creature remained submerged.
The realization horrified her.
The visible portion was already large enough to dwarf dragons.
Then she saw its eyes.
At first, her mind refused to understand what she was looking at. Two immense yellow shapes stared toward the shoreline from within the creature's massive head. For several moments, she mistook them for strange formations upon its flesh.
Then one blinked.
The eyelid moved slowly across an eye larger than many buildings.
The creature was looking directly at them.
Not toward the beach. Not toward the shoreline.
At them.
Lyanna suddenly felt very small. She had stood before dragons. She had fought armies. She had ridden through battles that would haunt ordinary men for the rest of their lives. None of it had prepared her for standing upon a lonely beach while something that ancient stared back at her from the sea.
The kraken continued approaching.
Then it made a sound.
The noise rolled across the sea with enough force to shake the ground beneath their feet. It was not a roar in any normal sense. The sound carried through the sand and into Lyanna's chest and bones while the ocean churned violently around the creature. The sheer force of it left the air trembling around them as the kraken announced its arrival.
For the first time in many years, fear touched her. It was not fear of death or fear of pain. It was the fear of standing before something that should never have existed.
Beside her, Benjen's hand tightened around hers. Lyanna looked at him, and he simply nodded. They both turned around and ran.
===============================
Benjen Snow
Benjen ran with all his speed, keeping pace with Lyanna because she was already weakened by the eventful night they had just endured. Every step drove pain through his exhausted body, yet the sheer scale of the kraken approaching behind them made such discomfort almost irrelevant. His enhanced warg senses felt overwhelmed by the creature's presence. He could feel the enormous mind moving through the sea and across the shoreline, its fury reaching him even without actively seeking it through warging. The beast's presence pressed against his thoughts with increasing intensity, and for a brief moment he wondered whether they should abandon the plan and simply escape on their dragons further inland.
He even opened his mouth to say it before glancing toward Lyanna, who was still running beside him. Their initial plan had been to reach the hill and then split apart, forcing the kraken to choose between them while the dragons attacked from the side. That plan had become almost meaningless now that he had seen the creature's true size. The hill that had seemed adequate when they planned the trap suddenly looked insignificant, and the distance between them and the approaching monster no longer felt remotely safe. Benjen looked at Lyanna's face and immediately cursed inwardly. There was a grin upon her face, and despite her exhaustion, she looked as though she was enjoying every moment of the approaching danger. He knew that neither she nor their father would ever abandon a fight before it had even begun. Benjen swallowed his pessimistic thoughts, kept them to himself, and increased his speed to match Lyanna as she had gone further ahead.
Even though he had freed all his animal warg connections so that his mind would remain clear enough to attack if necessary, as he had done earlier beneath the sea, he could still feel the kraken slowly reaching near them. The beast had already built tremendous momentum while crossing the ocean, and its enormous body continued driving forward despite reaching the shore. The sand and lack of water were slowing it, but nowhere near as much as Benjen had hoped. The creature's tentacles tore through the beach while its immense body continued pushing forward, throwing sand, rocks, and water in every direction. The ground trembled beneath every movement, making it difficult to maintain his balance even while running.
His only remaining connection was still with Vermithor, and through their bond, Benjen felt the dragon preparing to attack. He sensed the Bronze Fury positioning himself while Silverwing hovered nearby, waiting for the right moment. Vermithor lowered his body toward the ground before making a sudden movement toward Silverwing, clearly preparing to launch himself into the sky. Silverwing growled in response before taking two hurried steps across the sand and beating her wings with tremendous force. The silver dragon quickly found purchase against the air and rose higher and higher into the sky.
An angry growl came from Vermithor as he launched himself upward. Benjen watched through the bond as the great bronze dragon climbed into the sky, and despite everything happening around him, a grin crossed his face. Vermithor announced his presence with a tremendous roar that echoed across the shoreline and rolled over the ocean. The sound seemed to answer the kraken's own presence, and Benjen felt the great beast below react immediately.
The air shifted around him as Vermithor rushed overhead. The dragon did not have the momentum of a deep dive from the heavens, but he had rapidly gained speed from his initial leap and the power of his wings. Benjen kept his eyes upon the enormous dragon while still running toward the hill, and through Vermithor's senses he realized that the kraken had already prepared its attack. Two enormous tentacles began rising from the sand in the beach their movements coordinated as they reached toward the Bronze Fury.
The timing was perfect.
As Vermithor approached, the kraken's tentacles surged upward, attempting to seize the dragon and drag him down into the shallows. Vermithor opened his jaws.
Dragonfire erupted.
Benjen felt the heat wash across him even at the distance while he continued running. The flames came with such intensity that for a moment he had to turn his face away before looking back over his shoulder. What he saw made him slow for half a heartbeat.
Vermithor tore across the sky above the shoreline while a continuous stream of magical fire poured from his mouth. The flames struck the kraken's exposed flesh and spread across its wet body. Water covering the creature instantly began boiling away beneath the dragonfire, while the magical flames continued burning into the enormous scales beneath. The kraken's tentacles convulsed as the heat reached them, and the two limbs that had been preparing to seize Vermithor recoiled before they could close around him.
Benjen released a breath he had not realized he was holding as the first pass succeeded. Vermithor had escaped the kraken's initial grasp.
A massive line of fire stretched across the battlefield behind the Bronze Fury as he completed his attack run. The magical flames did not merely scorch the surface of the creature. They continued burning through portions of its scales, leaving blackened wounds across its flesh. The kraken released a deep, furious bellow that shook the shoreline.
Benjen and Lyanna had already passed the dunes and were reaching the small hill when they finally allowed themselves a moment of relief. Benjen glanced toward Vermithor as the Bronze Fury reached the end of his straight attack path above the ocean. The dragon's fire finally ended, and he began climbing by flapping its wings.
The relief lasted only a heartbeat.
Before Vermithor could gain enough height, a tentacle erupted from beneath the water and came crashing into the dragon with tremendous force.
The impact produced a sound that shook the earth beneath Benjen's feet.
For a moment, Benjen feared the worst as Vermithor's body was struck from the side, but the Bronze Fury had too much momentum to be stopped so easily. Instead of fighting against the force of the blow, Vermithor used it to his advantage, twisting his body with the impact and allowing the tentacle to send him toward the side rather than dragging him down. His wings immediately opened wider, catching the air as he redirected himself back toward the sky.
Another tentacle came.
Vermithor dodged.
A third followed almost immediately.
The Bronze Fury turned sharply, narrowly avoiding another crushing strike before climbing higher. The kraken had adapted almost instantly, using its enormous limbs to attack the dragon whenever he came within range. Vermithor responded with his own attacks, snapping his jaws toward exposed flesh whenever he passed close enough, while his claws tore into the creature's tentacles during brief moments when the two came within reach of one another.
The battle became a brutal exchange between dragon and the sea beast.
Vermithor attacked with claws, teeth, and fire, while the kraken fought with its vast strength and countless tentacles. Every time the dragon approached, multiple limbs rose to intercept him. Every time the kraken exposed itself, Vermithor struck where he could, tearing at flesh and burning whatever portion of its body he managed to reach.
Then Silverwing came flying from behind.
The silver dragon descended toward the battlefield with her jaws already open, unleashing a tremendous stream of dragonfire. The wind generated by her rapid approach drove the flames outward, spreading them across a wider area as they struck the kraken. The creature recoiled under the combined assault, several tentacles thrashing violently as the fire burned across its exposed flesh.
Vermithor immediately used the opening to disengage from the physical battle. He beat his enormous wings and climbed sharply while Silverwing followed. The two dragons gained height together, putting distance between themselves and the kraken's grasping limbs.
Benjen watched them climb, but the relief he had felt earlier did not return.
"It is not enough," Lyanna murmured.
Benjen nodded slowly.
He could see it as well.
The damage was nowhere near enough.
The kraken's scales had been scorched and portions of its flesh had been burned, but the creature was still moving with terrifying strength. The fire had wounded it, yet it had not seriously slowed it. The beast remained entirely capable of continuing the fight.
"We should help," Benjen whispered.
The words left his mouth reluctantly, and even he could hear the slight horror in his own voice.
Lyanna looked toward him, and Benjen saw something unusual within her expression. There was fear there, but it was overshadowed by excitement and determination. Her eyes remained fixed upon the enormous creature while her hand slowly moved toward the weapon at her side.
Lyanna drew Longclaw from its sheath and looked down at the Valyrian steel sword.
Benjen snorted when he saw it.
"Even Valyrian Steel is not going to be enough. Maybe our father could actually have the strength to pierce those scales and get some real results, but we cannot."
Lyanna continued staring toward the kraken for a few heartbeats before a familiar smirk appeared upon her face.
"Well, the beast is foolish enough to show its huge ass eyes outside the water, isn't it?"
Benjen stared at her for a moment, bewildered by the suggestion.
Then he laughed.
"Aye, that it is."
His eyes moved toward the enormous head rising above the waves, focusing on the massive yellow eyes that remained fixed upon the two humans standing upon the hill.
"We will dig through it to its brain. I guess that if we do it enough times, we will eventually reach it."
Lyanna tightened her grip around Longclaw while the distant dragons began another attack run. The kraken's enormous body was still half submerged beneath the water, and it shifted beneath the surface as its massive tentacles rose once more, preparing to meet the approaching dragons. The ocean churned violently around its body while seawater poured from the exposed portions of its flesh. Benjen looked toward Lyanna, and both of them understood that the next part of their plan would require them to do something considerably more dangerous than simply running from the creature.
Benjen looked bewildered for a moment before suddenly laughing. "Aye, that it is. We will dig through it to its brain, and I guess if we do it enough, we would eventually reach its brain," Benjen said with a matching grin. "I will attack its mind while Vermithor attacks it from behind when we reach close enough to the beast."
Lyanna nodded before adding, "I will carry you in my arms while I run because I am faster. I will throw you toward its eyes because I don't think we could reach them without cheating. Also, it is time we use our own fire resistance to the maximum."
Benjen grimaced at that suggestion and looked toward her with clear concern. "Are you sure, Lyanna?"
"Aye, Ben, I am quite sure. You did see the kraken's blood actually melting the sand wherever it hit," Lyanna replied while keeping her eyes fixed upon the approaching creature. "We have inherited many resistances from our father, but I don't see how we could survive such a level of acid burns. The fire would protect us somewhat while also injuring the cursed beast."
Benjen reluctantly nodded as another roar echoed across the beach from the distant dragons. "We both are quite insane, aren't we?"
"Who is sane in this world, Benjen?" Lyanna snorted as she tightened her grip around Longclaw and prepared herself for what was coming next.
==============================
Benjen grimaced in disgust as he drew his Valyrian steel sword and cut across his own palm. Blood immediately welled from the wound, and he turned his hand over the blade, allowing his blood to run across the steel before smearing the rest over his own body. Even with his enhanced healing, he managed to get enough blood across his clothes and exposed skin before the wound began closing. Lyanna was already doing the same beside him, covering herself and Longclaw in her own blood. It was a desperate measure, but they had reached the point where desperate measures were all they had left.
Lyanna picked him up and prepared to run. Benjen had already sent the order through their bond for Vermithor to attack from behind the kraken during the next pass. He could feel the pain of his dragon even from a distance. Vermithor had received numerous wounds while attacking the ancient beast, and only his enhanced healing was keeping him in the fight. The kraken was surviving through its sheer size, immense resilience, and the sheer amount of flesh separating any wound from the vital parts of its body. Benjen understood that an extended battle of exhaustion would eventually kill them before it killed the kraken.
Silverwing landed beside them upon the hill, but it was not a smooth landing. The dragon practically crashed during the final ten feet, losing control of her descent because of the damage she had already suffered. Sand and loose stones were thrown outward as her feet struck the ground, and her injured body staggered before she managed to steady herself. Yet through their bond, Benjen felt no thoughts of escape or fear of death. What reached him instead was rage, determination, and the instincts of a predator that had finally been pushed beyond its normal limits. One of Silverwing's wings had a gaping hole where the kraken's blood had burned through flesh and membrane, while another portion of the damage had come from one of the beast's tentacles. Despite it all, she remained focused upon the fight.
Lyanna looked toward Benjen for a moment before nodding. Silverwing did not make another sound before opening her jaws. Lyanna immediately began running at her full speed, which was considerable even after everything she had endured during the night. Vermithor was already above the ocean, approaching rapidly, and Benjen felt the dragon begin his dive as a tremendous roar rolled across the battlefield. The kraken, positioned between the dragons and the humans, understood that the Bronze Fury represented the greater threat and began preparing its tentacles to intercept him.
By then, Lyanna had already covered most of the five hundred meters between the hill and the kraken. Silverwing, understanding exactly what was required, opened her jaws and unleashed a long stream of dragonfire. The flames stretched across the ground and caught Lyanna and Benjen precisely at the end of the attack. Benjen felt the heat engulf his entire body, but instead of pain, warmth and energy surged through his exhausted muscles as the blood covering his body caught fire.
At four hundred meters from the kraken, the blood covering their bodies and swords was burning fiercely. Their clothes began to smolder beneath the flames while the dragonfire continued feeding upon the blood spread across their skin and weapons. Lyanna accelerated even further, using every remaining ounce of strength in her body. The flames did not slow them. They became another source of energy as the two ran directly toward the monster.
At one hundred meters from the kraken, Vermithor struck.
The Bronze Fury crashed into the ancient beast from behind with tremendous force, claws digging into its flesh as his jaws opened and a massive torrent of dragonfire poured across the creature's body. The kraken had sensed the danger approaching from behind and had already begun moving its tentacles toward Vermithor, but the dragon's attack struck with too much force and too much speed for the creature to properly defend itself. The impact sent enormous quantities of seawater, blood, and burning flesh across the shoreline.
Even with being busy with Vermithor one of the kraken's tentacles moved toward Lyanna and Benjen, sweeping through the air with enough force to kill them instantly if it connected.
Lyanna reached the one hundred meter mark.
Her eyes remained fixed upon the creature's enormous eye.
Then, with a grunt, she threw Benjen.
She released him with every bit of momentum she had built during the run, combining her own enhanced strength with the speed they had gained while approaching the beast. Benjen's body shot through the air toward one of the kraken's enormous eyes while the tentacle swept toward the space they had occupied only moments before.
Both of Benjen's hands tightened around his sword hilt.
He flew directly toward the eye.
The burning Valyrian steel sword was held forward, its point aimed toward the enormous yellow surface as though it were a lance. Within a heartbeat, his burning body crashed into the kraken's eye.
The sword punched through the thick membrane.
It passed through the protective tissue and disappeared almost entirely into the eye before reaching the hilt. A moment later, Benjen's burning body slammed into the surface behind the blade. The eye gave way beneath the combined force of the sword, his enhanced strength, and the momentum of his flight.
Benjen felt his body plunge into softer tissue.
He swallowed the pain and immediately used every remaining ounce of strength to drive himself farther into the creature. His sword continued cutting forward as the burning blood around him hissed against the flames covering his body.
======================================
Lyanna Mormont
Lyanna saw Benjen crash into one of the kraken's eyes while the enormous tentacle came dangerously close to reaching her. She prayed silently to the Old Gods that their plan would work, then jumped without reducing her running speed.
The Old Gods seemed to answer.
Her leap carried her above the tentacle as it swept toward her, and she realized at the last moment that she could use the limb itself to gain additional height. Her right foot struck the tentacle with tremendous force, and Lyanna immediately pushed against it with everything she possessed. The force running through her leg was immense, and she felt the bones threaten to give beneath the strain, but the temporary foothold gave her the additional momentum she needed.
She rose higher.
Her hands tightened around Longclaw. Then Lyanna came crashing down upon the kraken's other eye. Longclaw punched through the thick membrane as her entire burning body followed behind the sword. The impact drove her deep into the eye, and the creature responded immediately with a deafening cry that shook the shoreline.
The work that followed was grim.
Both Benjen and Lyanna began digging their way through the kraken's eye tissue, using their enhanced strength, their burning bodies, and their Valyrian steel swords to force a passage toward the interior of the creature's head. The kraken's cries of pain became almost deafening as its enormous body thrashed against the shore. Tentacles struck the beach and water with enough force to send waves crashing across the exposed seabed.
The tentacle Lyanna had used as a springboard suddenly came sweeping toward the creature's own face. It was attempting to reach the attackers clinging to its eyes, but Silverwing intercepted it before it could strike. The silver dragon crashed into the limb with her claws and teeth while dragonfire poured across the wounded flesh. The tentacle twisted violently beneath the assault, but Silverwing held on long enough to protect Lyanna and Benjen. The dragon even managed to direct another stream of fire toward the damaged eye, burning the tissue further and creating more room for Lyanna to continue her attack.
By then, both Lyanna and Benjen had pushed deep inside the eyeballs of the kraken. Their enhanced strength allowed them to tear through the thick tissue while the Valyrian steel blades cut wherever the material resisted them. They continued until their weapons struck the softer tissue behind the eye.
With the first major slash, both were drenched by the kraken's black blood.
The blood immediately began burning through anything it touched.
The flames covering their bodies continued burning because they were being fueled by the dragonfire and the blood they had spread over themselves before the attack. The passages they had carved through the eye remained ablaze around them, giving them brief protection from the creature's corrosive blood.
That protection did not last.
As they finally entered deeper into the kraken's body, the black blood began washing over them in enormous quantities. The flames covering their bodies were gradually suppressed, and their skin began burning beneath the blood. Benjen could feel the flesh on his arms and face blistering as he continued forcing himself forward, while somewhere nearby he could sense Lyanna doing the same.
Neither stopped.
Outside the creature, their dragons continued fighting.
There was no strategy left in the battle.
Vermithor and Silverwing attacked with pure savagery, using claws, teeth, and dragonfire against every part of the kraken they could reach. The tentacles repeatedly attempted to encircle the dragons and crush them within their grasp, but both dragons widened their wings whenever they were caught, preventing the limbs from closing around their bodies completely.
The cost was enormous.
Both dragons sacrificed portions of their wings merely to prevent the tentacles from securing a killing hold. Flesh tore. Blood poured across their bodies. Membranes were ripped apart beneath the force of the kraken's grip, yet they continued attacking the actual body of the creature whenever an opening appeared. Dragonfire burned through exposed flesh while claws tore at the wounds that had already been created.
Benjen did not know how much time he spent inside the kraken.
The passage through its body seemed to stretch endlessly, surrounded by heat, blood, tissue, and the constant vibrations created by the battle outside. He continued moving until, through his warg sense, he began to feel something different.
The presence ahead was enormous.
Ancient.
And deeply connected to the mind he had touched earlier.
Benjen finally reached what appeared to be the brain of the kraken.
By then, he could no longer feel most of the pain in his body. The black blood had burned so much of his skin that many of his pain receptors had already been destroyed. His body was failing, but his mind remained focused upon the presence before him.
With a huge yell of pain, Benjen plunged his burning sword into the brain of the kraken.
The entire beast roared.
The sound shook the shoreline, tore through the water, and struck Benjen from every direction. Yet he did not stop. He tore the sword free and struck again, driving the Valyrian steel deeper into the creature's brain.
Outside, the kraken reacted with everything it had left.
Its enormous body convulsed as its tentacles struck at Vermithor and Silverwing with renewed fury. The dragons were battered by the final assault, but they continued attacking through their own exhaustion, refusing to release their hold upon the dying creature.
The kraken released one final earth-shaking roar. The sound was so powerful that Benjen and Lyanna's eardrums burst. Then the movement stopped.
Benjen and Lyanna, who had felt the kraken's mind through their warg senses throughout the entire battle, felt its essence slowly begin to fade. The ancient presence weakened with every passing moment until there was nothing left.
The kraken was dead.
Benjen pulled his sword free and staggered backward. He looked behind him and could see the path he had carved through the creature's tissues. He began walking back through it, using his sword as a crutch while forcing his ruined body to continue moving.
Through his warg sense, he could feel Lyanna doing the same somewhere within the enormous corpse. Neither knew exactly how long it took. Then both finally reached the opening they had carved into the creature. With a final yell of effort, they forced themselves outward and fell from the kraken's body at almost the same moment.
Benjen immediately saw that Lyanna had suffered more damage than he had. The only reason either of them could still move was the last remaining enhancement provided by their father's blood and their own bond with their dragons. Benjen could actually feel Vermithor feeding him energy through their bond, forcing enough strength into his exhausted body to keep him alive. He sensed another source of energy entering Lyanna through her bond with her bear on Bear Island, yet he could see that even this would not allow her to remain conscious for long.
Benjen wrapped his arms around Lyanna and held her close while looking toward their dragons. His heart nearly broke at what he saw. Both dragons had been reduced to little more than ruined masses of flesh and torn tissue. Their wings were almost completely destroyed, their legs were broken, and enormous holes had been torn through their bodies. Silverwing could barely stand, and her back appeared badly damaged from the punishment she had suffered.
Yet despite everything, Benjen felt a strange amusement when he saw Silverwing use her remaining fire upon a nearby portion of the dead kraken. She burned the flesh for several moments before biting into it and tearing away a large piece, swallowing it with evident hunger.
Vermithor was doing the same.
The Bronze Fury looked toward his rider before moving toward another portion of the kraken's enormous body. He released his remaining fire into the flesh, waited only long enough for it to burn, and then took a massive bite, swallowing the flesh almost whole.
Benjen felt Vermithor's presence suddenly expand within his mind.
An image entered his thoughts with such urgency that he almost recoiled from it.
He saw himself standing inside a massive hole that Vermithor had created within the kraken's body. Lyanna stood beside him. Above them was an enormous four-chambered heart, still surrounded by layers of muscle and tissue.
The image changed.
He and Lyanna were standing directly beneath the heart, driving their swords upward into it as blood poured down upon them, bathing them with blood of the ancient beast.
Then came another image.
The two of them were tearing into the enormous heart while their dragons helped them, eating as much of the flesh as they could.
Benjen stared at Vermithor through the haze of exhaustion and blood.
The dragon's message was clear.
===============================================
Author's note: A Huge chapter… anyway the kraken is dead. The two dragons as well as their couple riders just managed to scrap a victory even though the damage they suffered is catastrophic in any other person or beast…
Harlan portion is deliberately repetitive to show how much out of his mind he is…..
To read ahead 4 chapters: My Patreon : search for black wolf
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