A grin spreads across Axel's face as he watches the carcass sail through the air. A hundred miles. Two hundred miles. Three hundred… hm, he thinks he hits his target. But he can't be sure, not from this distance. And as tempting as it is to fly over really quick and check, Axel isn't about to abandon his people, not even if they have the numerical advantage in a big way.
He-
THWIP!
Instinctively, Axel tilts his head to the side and the thick wooden trunk of a Scorpion Bolt goes sailing past his face by half an inch. His eyes narrow as he turns and looks down at where it came from. Staring up at him in slowly mounting horror are Ironborn men crewing an Ironborn ship near the edge of the waters where he and Euron's Kraken had their cataclysmic battle.
A slow, wicked smile spreads across Axel's face and he draws Stonehart from its sheath once more. He'd put the Valyrian Steel away once he realized the Kraken was dead, but he no longer needs both hands to carry the damn thing. The King points his sword down at the Ironborn Ship like it's the point of a spear… and then he drops.
Ironborn Sailors howl and scream as he comes down like a comet, Stonehart's tip piercing right through the chest of the man standing at the ship's helm. And then further still, as Axel rips through the entire Ironborn ship from top to bottom.
Only once he's in the water below does he shake the corpse off of his blade and then thrust himself back up, coming out the top again through another part of the boat. Just like that, the Ironborn Galley is already taking on water, two massive man-shaped holes causing it to start to sink at a rapid pace.
But Axel barely pays it any mind. He's already looking for the next ship… where he does the exact same thing. Again and again, Axel flies forward, treating himself like an impossibly tough, impossibly fast, entirely reusable Scorpion Bolt. Some of the Ironborn try to fight back, firing at him or even attempting to swing at him with their axes in the brief moments that he flies past them.
None can do a thing to him though. They can't even break his skin, even as Axel breaks their boats, one by one. Until eventually… he breaks their spirits.
Coming up out of the water as another Ironborn Ship begins to sink, Axel looks and sees the portion of the Ironborn Fleet that he hadn't managed to get to yet has turned and begun fleeing back towards the Iron Islands.
His own fleets quickly give chase, of course. Seeing this, Axel nods his approval… and then focuses on one Ironborn Vessel in particular. Black sails. Red hull. Everyone has told him in detail what Euron Greyjoy's ship looks like.
Euron is retreating to the Iron Islands as well. For a moment, Axel considers stopping him here and now. It would be easy to destroy his boat and drown the man right here and right now. But no… where would the fun in that be? He'd have a lot of unhappy knights and warriors on his hands if they didn't get to partake in a single fight, after all.
Besides… he wants them to see what he's done to Pyke. He wants Euron in particular to see what he's done before the man dies a dog's death.
-x-X-x-
The Baratheon King sought to add insult to injury. Euron had felt the moment that the Kraken died to the depths of his soul. The connection between him and the creature facilitated by the Horn he'd scavenged from Old Valyria had snapped and left him gasping for air. He'd barely been able to give the orders for the thralls and mongrels who crewed the Silence to turn the damn boat around and make for Pyke at full speed.
However, feeling it was one thing. Seeing? Seeing was something else entirely. He'd watched as the Baratheon King, somehow hovering unassisted in midair, tossed the Kraken's carcass. Everyone had seen it, obviously. But what Euron hadn't realized was just where Axel Baratheon had thrown his Kraken. Not until he got back to the Iron Islands anyways.
There, impaled on the tallest, somewhat pointed tower of Castle Pyke… was the Kraken's carcass. Axel had thrown it in such a way that the massive beast had come down and been skewered like a normal squid upon a fishing spear atop the castle tower, leaving House Greyjoy's symbol to adorn their seat like some cruel mockery of everything they believed in, everything they held dear.
To make things even worse, it was obvious that Axel had let them go too. Or rather, let him go. The Baratheon King had destroyed more than half of the Ironborn Fleet. With how fast he'd been moving, he could have easily run down Euron's ship as well, but he hadn't. Axel had allowed Euron and the rest of his forces to run back here so they could see what he'd done, to truly demoralize them.
"My King… what do we do now? What is the Drowned God's Will?"
Euron doesn't even bother looking over at Damphair. Victarion was gone, dead and drowned with his ship. But of course Damphair still lived, the Priest of the Drowned God having been waiting here on Pyke for them to return victorious.
They hadn't, obviously… and yet, Aeron Greyjoy still believed that Euron had a plan. He still believed that the Drowned God would see them all to victory. It was enough to make Euron want to fucking spit blood.
He watches on as the Ironborn that remain struggle to prepare for the oncoming fleet. The armies of Westeros are at their doorstep, the one place they never should have been able to reach. Their ships can be seen from one end of the horizon to the other and they get closer and closer with each passing second.
"Euron, we-urk!"
It's enough to make him see red and his pathetic little brother isn't helping things with his whining. And so Euron gives into his impulses, draws his sword from his belt, and turns to sink it into his last living brother's gut. Aeron's eyes are wide with disbelief as he chokes on his own blood, seemingly shocked that Euron would do such a thing.
He's not sure why his younger brother is so surprised though. After all, he'd killed Balon too hadn't he? He was already a kinslayer anyways. Not that it mattered anymore. None of it mattered anymore.
Kicking Damphair back off of his sword, Euron wipes the Valyrian Steel Blade clean on the dying man's robes and turns back to watching the enemy approach. He lets out a shuddering breath before looking down to the ocean between him and the ships.
"Well?! You're the one who wanted me to kill the bastard! You're the one who stole my life from me, just to turn me into your attack dog! What now, O' Drowned One?! What now He Who Dwells Beneath the Waves?! Your Kraken is dead! Shall you summon more?"
He pauses briefly before snarling when he receives no response.
"WELL?! I'M WAITING!"
But… nothing. Not a single thing. Except for the tug in his chest. The Kraken's connection might be gone, but the Drowned God's connection is not. Euron could flee and under normal circumstances he would have by this point… but if he does, he knows his fate. The moment that he steps foot on a boat without the express intention of trying to kill Axel Baratheon, the Drowned God will sink his ship and drag him back down to the watery depths one final time.
It wasn't fair… it wasn't fucking FAIR! All his plans, all his ambitions… reduced to this. He could have braved Valyria without the Drowned God's favor. He could have conquered the Iron Islands without needing a single ounce of that bastard god's power. He could have done so much more! But no. This was what he got. Euron Greyjoy had been turned into nothing but a plaything for a god… and he hadn't even been given the tools he needed to succeed at his task.
"Useless! Fucking USELESS PIECE OF SHIT GOD!"
Euron rages, slamming his fist into the stone before him, cursing at the top of his lungs until he has no air left to waste on such things. And then he stands there, panting for breath and watching on as Axel Baratheon's fleets approach the Isle of Pyke.
They arrive within the hour, unloading onto the beaches. The men of Westeros come flooding out, roaring at the top of their lungs and charging forward for glory and honor and bloodshed. Euron watches on dispassionately as Ironborn die left and right. He's never truly cared about his people. He's never truly cared for anyone but himself.
Axel Baratheon, of course, takes the field almost immediately, turning what was already a lopsided battle into a truly one-sided slaughter. What few Defensive Scorpions they have in place on Pyke are targeted first by the flying King, who rips them apart with his bare hands and a savage grin, allowing for his forces to advance up the beach and make quick work of the Ironborn down there all the faster.
Soon enough, the Castle itself is under siege… but that too lasts mere moments before Axel notices that his men have made it to the gate. At which point, he blasts it open with brute force, clearing the way for them to continue on.
Only then, as the shouts and screams of fighting fill Castle Pyke below Euron's feet, does the Baratheon King float up to him where he stands on the battlements. The Kraken's corpse looms over both of their heads as Axel looks up and smiles at the sight of the damn thing drooped upon Euron's Castle.
"Did you like my gift?"
Euron twitches, backing up a few paces to put room between them as Axel comes in for a landing on the castle's stone ramparts. He holds his sword at his side, still coated in the blood of his little brother. The Baratheon King barely spares a glance towards Damphair's lifeless body though, even as he draws his own sword from his waist.
"… The Drowned God was right to fear you. You are no man, Axel Baratheon. You're something else entirely."
That catches the King of Westeros off guard, though Euron knows there's no way to make use of the opening. For a moment, Axel looks surprised… then, his eyebrow quirks up mockingly.
"Oh? Is this where you tell me that the Drowned God made you do all of this? That you were merely following your deity's commandments all this time? The Drowned Priest dead at your feet makes it a little hard to believe that if I'm being honest. Seems to me that you've had a bit of a falling out, even."
Euron growls at being mocked by the younger man.
"Believe what you will! It is the truth! I was halfway across the world when the Drowned God sunk my ship and pulled me into the depths! He forced this pact upon me. A pact that had one, singular goal… your death!"
That causes Axel to narrow his eyes thoughtfully. Euron just lets out a bark of mirthless laughter and shakes his head.
"For a so-called god, he's just so… weak. Even with our pact, he can't strike me down here for speaking my mind. He had to guide me to the horn in the Ruins of Old Valyria that allowed me to connect and command the Kraken. He calls himself a god, demands worship and submission… but in the end, he's just so… impotent."
The Baratheon King looks nonplused by this conversation. Perhaps he expected Euron to curse HIM, rather than cursing his would be god. But Euron… Euron had never been much of a believer. In fact…
"One day, I hope you kill him. I hope you find a way to wherever it is that a squirming worm like him hides and you slaughter him like you did the Kraken. Even if these are to be my final moments, I will take solace in that hope. Because he's not going to stop coming after you, Axel Baratheon. None of them are."
That gets the King's attention. His gaze sharpens as he frowns more severely.
"They? Who is they?"
Euron laughs again, even as he takes his sword in both hands, holding it out before him, ready to fight.
"The gods, you slow bastard! You are the Champion of the Seven! They have laid claim to you, made you their own, and are using you to spread their Will! Did you truly think the others would just… let something like you continue to exist? Do you think the Drowned God is the only deity moving against you even now?! No… oh no, no. This might be the end for me… but it's only the beginning for you."
Axel stares for another long moment before lifting his own sword wordlessly. Rather than launch himself forward, however, he pauses.
"Just one more questions before we begin. That armor you're wearing… is that Valyrian Steel?"
Euron looks down at his armor, black scale mail with glyphs and arcane symbols somewhat covering up the all too familiar dark grey ripple patterns of the Valyrian Steel it's made of. After a moment, he nods, taking a bit of pride in it as he holds his head high.
"Aye. It is."
Axel… smiles.
"My thanks then. I think it'll look better on me than it does on you."
Then, the Baratheon King moves. Euron tries to bring up his sword to block, but it's no use. One moment he's lifting his arms, the next moment he has no arms. Or rather… he has no body. Euron has heard stories that men live on briefly after being decapitated. Unfortunately, he gets to experience this firsthand as his head is shorn from his shoulders, no doubt to keep his armor fully intact and undamaged.
His line of sight is nothing but sky for a moment before his head lands on the deck and he winds up rolling to a stop right next to his dead brother's face. Euron only has to stare into Aeron's sightless eyes for a moment before Axel Baratheon's fingers curl in his black hair, however.
"For some reason, I thought you would be stronger. The Drowned God claimed you, didn't he? If I'm the Champion of the Seven and you're supposed to be his Champion, where is your power? Where is your personal strength? Well… no matter. He can have you back now. And if he is actually down there… feel free to tell him I really will come for him next if he keeps coming after me and mine."
Wait, what? Euron's last moments of consciousness are of being whipped through the air as Axel flings him across the sky and into the sea. And then he hits the waves and knows nothing at all.
Except that's not quite true. The bastard… the bastard has sent him to his god, to the god who has laid claim on Euron's soul. When next his eyes open, its to a familiar darkness as the depths of the Drowned God's domains surround him.
Only, this time he's not here to be persuaded into a pact. This time, he's here as a failure… a dead man, claimed by whatever manner of creature He Who Dwells Beneath the Waves truly is.
Euron tries to scream. He most definitely tries.
-x-X-x-
Axel whistles quietly to himself as he watches Euron's head fly off into the distance before hitting the water. Then, he glances up at the massive Kraken Corpse still half-draped over Castle Pyke and grins. That grin only widens when he looks down at Euron's decapitated corpse, clad in Valyrian Steel Armor.
But then the grin fades and Axel finds himself reflecting on the Greyjoy's last words. They had been both illuminating and frustrating in equal measure, ultimately. Actually, Euron Greyjoy had left him with more questions than answers. All of this… was because the Drowned God wanted him dead? Because the Seven had claimed him as their Champion?
But had they been the ones to bless him and protect him all his life or not? Had they empowered him or were they simply taking advantage of his strength and his faith? More than that though… the Seven were on his side, supposedly. But what about other gods? Would they really come after him like Euron claimed?
… The Old Gods hadn't yet, as far as he could tell. The North, where most of their remaining worshippers resided, had been nothing but steadfast and loyal. And Axel couldn't possibly imagine someone like Lord Stark being capable of subterfuge.
If the Old Gods did whisper anything in his ear about Axel being an abomination to put down, the man would have said something outright rather than plotting against him in the shadows. Yet, Axel didn't think either possibility was really happening.
On the other hand… Varys DID mention something about Daenerys Targaryen being accompanied by a Red Priestess, didn't he? And also something about her teaching the Targaryen Princess blood and fire magic that allowed her to hatch dragons by sacrificing her own brother.
Hm… could that be something? Or was he simply jumping at shadows?
At that thought, Axel shakes his head, clearing it and letting out a laugh. Here he was, completely victorious… and he was letting a dead man's final words get to him. In the end, Euron Greyjoy had just been a mad man who thought his Pet Kraken would allow him to conquer all of Westeros. Nothing more.
It really was as simple as that, wasn't it? And… Euron had been wrong too. Dead wrong, heh. Looking up again to the Kraken's corpse and then back down over the parapets to where Pyke is being casually conquered in good order, Axel grins once more.
The rest of the Iron Islands would fall within days to be sure. And then Axel would finally have to decide just how he was going to handle this collection of worthless fucking rocks.
But that's perfectly fine. The time for hiding and hesitation is over. From now on, Axel Baratheon is not going to pretend to be anything less than what he truly is. Not anymore.
-x-X-x-
A/N: Euron dies screaming. Axel gets a new set of armor. And like he told Asha, the fighting was easy. It's what comes next that will be harder~
By the time all is said and done, the battles over with and the Ironborn subjugated across every stinking rock in their little island chain… the Iron Islands are a complete and utter mess.
This, Axel Baratheon decides, is not necessarily a bad thing. Nor was it entirely unexpected either. The Iron Islands needed a change. The Ironborn needed a change. And there wasn't going to be a better time to help things along than right now, all things considered.
Thanks to his Kraken, Euron Greyjoy didn't just have popular support among the Ironborn, he'd had damn near unanimous support. That means Axel doesn't have to play nice. Each and every Ironborn Noble who survived this pissing contest of a war is a traitor to the Seven Kingdoms.
Not that many did survive anyways. The war might have been swift, with just two major battles at sea and on land if one was counting the sacking of Lannisport and the siege of Casterly Rock. However, because of the way their culture worked, Ironborn Nobles were almost universally also Ironborn Captains.
When Axel had singlehandedly wiped out more than half of Euron Greyjoy's fleet at sea, he'd also wiped out most of the Ironborn 'nobility' in the process. And since many of them had their sons serving under them or captaining their own boats, he'd actually wiped out entire Noble Houses in some cases.
On top of that, the Ironborn did not like to surrender, even when faced with an unbeatable foe apparently. Oh, there had been some who had broken from the sight of Euron's Kraken impaled on Castle Pyke's tallest tower. Especially when the subsequent invasion force stormed their fortifications in mere minutes with Axel's assistance. However, most had fought to the death, and in doing so cleared out even more of the problem for him.
This ultimately left Axel with a couple thousand men who could claim to be 'true Ironborn' in the face of what had once been tens of thousands. And far, far less could be said to have ever captained a ship or led an Ironborn House. The bodies from his sinking of so much of their fleet were already said to be washing up on the shores of Pyke and other nearby islands, and likely would be for quite a long time to come.
And so Axel comes to find himself holding court from the Seastone Chair, an immense block of oily black stone carved into the shape of a kraken. He sits upon it like the conqueror he is and judges the men brought before him one by one. Most face the headman's block. Some are allowed to go to the Wall to take the Black. None escape without some sort of punishment though.
Until eventually, Axel finds himself before an assembled mass of men. Some of them, a very scant few, are Ironborn. But most are his people, crowding the hall and surrounding said Ironborn survivors on all sides.
Some of those people are from the Mountain Clans of the Vale that he's brought with him, specifically the Moon Brothers and the Milk Snakes. They've already been gifted some of the emptied out lands here in the Iron Islands after signaling that they wanted to stick around and try their hands at fishing and sailing.
Axel wasn't sure if they were going to be able to make something of their new islands. But in the end, that was up to them. Whether the Moon Brothers and the Milk Snakes could actually prosper here on the Iron Islands or not was entirely in their own hands at this point, though Axel of course wished the two clans the best of luck all the same.
Everyone, whether they're his men or not, looks to him with either reverence or fear in their eyes though. There's pockets of disbelief here and there, as though they cannot trust what their own eyes saw… but Axel doesn't really care. He knows they're too afraid to try anything.
Finally rising from the Seastone Chair, he stands before them all, towering over them as his eyes sweep across the room. He considers floating for a moment for added effect and can even feel how easy it would be to let himself do so… but no, for the moment he stays on the ground.
"Now that all individual punishments have been handed out, I have a number of decrees to make. It has been a long time since the Ironborn followed the Old Ways. Three hundred years have passed since Aegon the Conqueror killed Harren Hoare at the burning of Harrenhal and ended your ancient traditions of reaving and plundering."
There's some shifting from foot to foot at that. Some scowling too, from the few Ironborn in the Castle. But they hold their tongues all the same, knowing better than to speak right now. Axel pins them with his gaze all the same, staring them each down until they look away.
"… And yet, Aegon didn't go far enough, did he? For all that the histories claim you lot became more civilized after his conquest, the truth is… you're still trying to go back. Three hundred years and you're still trying to bring back the Old Ways. Still talking about us 'Greenlanders' and how we're 'weak' for not paying the Iron Price for our survival."
Axel lets a smile creep across his face. He takes a purposefully menacing step forward and is amused when every Ironborn arrayed in front of him takes a step back. He scoffs at them derisively before asking a question.
"Am I weak? I, Axel Baratheon, First of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms! AM. I. WEAK?!"
His roar shakes the castle walls for a moment before things quiet back down. Nobody dares to question him.
"Feel free to step forward and challenge me! Many of your kin have died by my hand at this point, after all! Including your so-called King. Euron Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands, Bringer of the Old Ways! And for what?! To get the lot of you killed?! To lead you to ruin just like his brother Balon before him?!"
Axel spits on the floor to show how he feels about both men. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Theon bristle. Asha though… Asha is silent. Thoughtful. When he meets her gaze, he gives her a meaningful look and a single arched eyebrow. In response, she just nods to him. Very well then, if that's what she wants…
"The first of my decrees is simple! The practice of thralldom ends today! There will never be another 'thrall' on the Iron Islands for as long as I live!"
That causes far more of a stir among the Ironborn in the hall. And yet, still none of them are willing to speak up. Funny how war works… when all is said and done, all that are left behind are the cowards.
"There are men who will try to tell me that a thrall is not a slave! That a thrall is no man's property! I DISAGREE!"
Again, his raised voice causes the stone walls to shake. Axel sneers at the Ironborn, snarling as he glares them all down.
"There is no place for slavery in MY Seven Kingdoms. And therefore, there is no place for thralls either!"
A cheer starts up at that. Not from the Ironborn of course, but from his own men. Men of Westeros, men of honor, men who despise slavery just as much as Axel does. For three hundred years, the Targaryens allowed the Ironborn to get away with their own personal form of slavery in all but name. His father did too, despite putting down Balon Greyjoy's Rebellion.
No more. For as long as Axel lived, no more. As well…
"Which brings me to my second decree. The taking of salt wives is over, effectively immediately!"
That does it. Finally, one of the silent Ironborn breaks rank.
"What?! You can't-!"
Axel blurs across the hall faster than most eyes can track, coming to a stop in front of the man who dared to speak up. His hand grips the Ironborn's shoulder as his sudden appearance mere inches from the warrior's face causes the words to catch on his tongue as he stares, wide eyed and fearful.
The King's voice, when it comes, is soft as silk yet nevertheless echoes through the otherwise silent hall, reaching the ears of every man and woman standing around him.
"You don't know the half of what I can and can't do. Do you think you've seen the depth of my power? Do you think your Would-Be King and his Pet were enough to even make me break a sweat?"
When the Ironborn just trembles in Axel's grasp, the King smiles.
"Go on. Try me. I see the dagger you smuggled in here under your shirt. Draw it. Stab me through. I give you permission."
For a second, he really believes the man will try for it. He is Ironborn after all. But in the end, cowardice wins out and he stays frozen in terror. Axel scoffs and pushes him back forcibly after a moment, into the arms of loyal knights who will see him imprisoned for daring to smuggle a weapon into this meeting. For that crime, they will probably have yet another Ironborn man on his way to the Wall soon enough.
Turning back to the rest, Axel just shrugs, smirking.
"As I was saying… there will be no further salt wives. No further blood sacrifices to the Drowned God either."
He was tempted to outlaw worship of the Drowned God altogether. Especially after his conversation with Euron. But in the end, Axel had decided there were limits to what even he could get away with this early, especially given what he was planning on doing next.
If he really wanted to leave the Drowned God with no worshippers this side of Westeros, than he would end life on the Iron Islands entirely, killing the rest of the Ironborn and transporting everyone else such as the thralls and salt wives back to the mainland where they might return to their families or find new lives.
But… no. While he would still be making sure that any former thralls or salt wives who wanted to return to their families were allowed to do so, he was also trying to make an effort to leave some semblance of civilization on these god forsaken islands intact.
Why? Because Asha wanted them. And he had always been a sucker for a pretty face.
"Ah! But it's not all bad news, my good sers!"
Axel claps his hands together with a wide, toothy grin stretching from ear to ear as he makes his way back to the Seastone Chair and sits back down upon it. Again, his sheer size allows him to dominate the pitch black chair like the conqueror he is.
"House Greyjoy has served as the Lords of the Iron Islands for generations. And while Euron, Victarion, and Aeron Greyjoy all turned out to be traitors… Balon Greyjoy's last two remaining children remained loyal to their King, as well as the Iron Throne."
Theon pushes his way forward at that, looking expectant and eager. But Axel shuts him down with a raised hand. Truthfully, he doesn't necessarily want to ruin the other man's day like this. But at the same time… if Theon really thought Axel was just going to give this to him, he hadn't been paying attention.
"On one hand, we have Balon Greyjoy's last surviving son… who has in turn been raised in Winterfell as a ward to Lord Eddard Stark since the age of ten."
There's a flinch from Theon at that, even as murmuring breaks out among the assembled Ironborn in the hall. It's not exactly positive murmuring, from what Axel can tell. Still, he just smiles widely, pretending not to notice.
"Lord Stark is one of the most honorable men I know. And the North does not breed weakness. I'm confident that Theon Greyjoy has learned quite a lot of valuable lessons in the North, and that he will be a loyal subject to the Iron Throne for as long as he lives."
Those words have Theon puffing up his chest in pride, making it clear that the man still had no idea how to read the room. Axel's words might mean something to the knights and lords that he's brought with him from the mainland, but to the few remaining Ironborn? They're already judging Theon harshly. Already looking down on him for his 'weakness', albeit silently.
Letting his smile morph into a grin, Axel gestures with his other hand.
"On the other hand, we have Balon's only daughter. Asha Greyjoy, a Captain in her own right who has grown up here among you and has been sailing her own ship for a decade now. She came to King's Landing at her father's request, to investigate rumors of Euron's insidious plotting. Of all of you, she is the only Ironborn Captain to keep her crew loyal to their King. She was smart enough to choose the winning side."
"But… but she's a woman!"
The outraged outburst doesn't come from one of the Ironborn in the hall. Or rather, not one of the ones who Axel is currently speaking to. Instead, its Theon Greyjoy who points out that rather obvious fact, incredulous and frustrated as he gestures to Asha. Asha, who has stepped forward by this point wordlessly, presenting herself for all to see. Head held high, chin jutting out, she glares at everyone assembled… but she glares at her brother most of all.
Axel just grins wider.
"Yes. She is a woman, isn't she? A female Captain among the Ironborn is rare, but not entirely unheard of. A Lady Reaper of Pyke though… now that's never been done before, has it?"
Theon looks gobsmacked. The other Ironborn look uncomfortable. Axel once again rises from the Seastone Chair, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he looks down at all of them. His sneer transforms into a wicked grin after a moment of silence.
"We're going to do something that you lot should have done when Euron first snuck back here to kill his brother and usurp this stupid throne! We're going to have a Kingsmoot!"
Shock ripples through the hall at that proclamation. But of course, Axel isn't done.
"Of course, the only candidates allowed to make their cases will be Theon and Asha Greyjoy. And it won't just be the Captains who get a vote. Every last living soul who still calls the Iron Islands home and intends to stay here after I'm gone will be allowed to vote in this Kingsmoot. Including former thralls and salt wives."
Ironborn Men bristle indignantly at this… and yet, none make a move to try and take a stand after the last example. Axel just chuckles at their impotent anger.
"And yes. I'm well aware that I'm perverting your traditions while at the same time tearing them down. In case it wasn't obvious, that was the point. And in case you lot needed another lesson…"
Axel finally gives into the urge and flies. Specifically, he flies straight up through the stone above his head, breaking right through it and coming out into the open sky above the castle. It takes only a moment of his time to find what he's looking for and once he's extracted it, he flies back down through the hole in the ceiling that he's made.
Everyone barely has a chance to react to his departure. The falling stones from his ascent only just manage to beat him back to the ground before he arrives among them again, holding his grisly prize aloft in one hand. Contemptuously, Axel tosses the glossy orb, bigger than his head, to the floor at the feet of the assembled Ironborn.
He smiles as they slowly realize what they're looking at… one of the eyeballs of the massive Kraken Corpse that even now lays draped over Castle Pyke. It's a solid reminder of just how powerful Axel truly is.
Bringing his hands together in a loud clap that rattles the castle's walls, Axel draws their attention back to him.
"Right then. Get to work."
They scurry to do his bidding and Axel spares one last look to Asha in the process. He won't just hand the position to her… but they both know he's stacked the deck in her favor all the same. Her only competition is her soft brother, after all. If she can't win against Theon, then she doesn't deserve to be the first Lady Reaper of Pyke, plain and simple.
… But in the end, they both know how this is going to go.
-x-X-x-
A/N: And there you have it. Axel definitely isn't taking it easy on the Ironborn, but because of Asha's ambitions he doesn't go full scorched earth like he could have. He really is a sucker for a sexy bitch who can fight~
Feedback is GREATLY appreciated, every comment helps me shape the story with a Daily Free Write like this one!