Chapter 12: Fire on the Water
POV: Geralt
The stench of burning pitch and human terror rose from Blackwater Bay like incense to gods of war and chaos. From Appa's back, a thousand feet above the largest naval battle in generations, I had a view that no mortal was meant to witness—the moment when wildfire transformed strategy into apocalypse.
"This is it," I thought, my hands gripping Appa's reins as we soared through smoke-filled air. "History's hinge moment. Everything I've done leads to this."
Below us, two hundred ships clashed in waters that reflected firelight like molten copper. Stannis Baratheon's fleet stretched across the bay in perfect battle formation—war galleys bristling with scorpions, transport ships thick with men who'd come to claim a crown, banners bearing the flaming heart of R'hllor snapping in the wind.
And sailing straight toward them, like a lamb approaching wolves, was Tyrion's trap.
[Strategic Overview: Blackwater Bay Engagement]
[Stannis Fleet: 180+ combat vessels confirmed]
[Lannister Forces: Minimal naval presence, maximum deception]
[Wildfire Deployment: Single vessel, maximum payload]
[Intervention Window: 3-4 minutes until detonation]
"There," I whispered, pointing toward a single ship that moved with deliberate slowness through the center of Stannis's formation. The Brave Jester looked unremarkable—just another trading vessel that had somehow wandered into a war zone. But her hold contained enough wildfire to turn the entire bay into a lake of green flame.
Appa rumbled beneath me, sensing the tension in my posture. My massive companion had flown through storms and battles, but nothing quite like this. The air itself felt charged with potential violence, thick with the smoke of smaller fires and the screams of men who could see death approaching.
I pulled out the first of several carefully prepared packages from my saddle pouches. Alchemical mixtures that looked like common ship supplies but would create very specific effects when deployed correctly.
"Timing is everything," I reminded myself. "Save the right people, doom the right people, maintain the timeline while protecting the future."
The key was Davos Seaworth.
In the original timeline, the Onion Knight's ship would be caught in the outer edge of the wildfire blast—damaged but not destroyed, leaving him alive but badly burned. That outcome was acceptable, but I could improve it.
I spotted his vessel easily enough—the Black Betha, flying Stannis's crowned stag, positioned on the northeastern edge of the formation. Davos stood at the prow, his weathered face grim with the knowledge that something was wrong with this attack.
[Target Identified: Davos Seaworth - Black Betha]
[Survival Priority: Maximum]
[Intervention Type: Protective measures]
[Package Deployment: Flame-resistant coating mixture]
I guided Appa into a shallow dive, approaching the Black Betha from above and behind. At this height, we were invisible against the smoke-filled sky, just another shadow among the chaos of battle.
The package dropped with perfect precision, striking the ship's deck near the mainmast and shattering to spread its contents across the wooden planking. To any observer, it would look like debris from the battle—a broken barrel, perhaps, or supplies lost from another vessel.
But the mixture would soak into the wood and rigging, creating a protective barrier that would resist flame for crucial minutes. Not enough to prevent all damage, but enough to ensure the ship could escape before the worst of the wildfire reached it.
[Protective Deployment: Successful]
[Davos Survival Probability: Increased by 67%]
[Timeline Integrity: Maintained]
[Next Target: Stannis Command Vessel]
The second package was more complex—a mixture that would create thick, choking smoke when exposed to heat. I dropped it onto Stannis's flagship, the Fury, where it shattered against the deck near the stern castle.
Within seconds, black smoke began pouring from the impact site. Not dangerous, but dense enough to obscure vision and force the command crew to relocate. The disruption would prevent Stannis from observing the full extent of the disaster about to unfold, keeping him alive while ensuring his forces suffered maximum confusion.
[Command Disruption: Smoke screen deployed]
[Stannis Survival: Enhanced]
[Fleet Coordination: Significantly impaired]
But my most important intervention was yet to come.
In the center of the bay, the Brave Jester was approaching the heart of Stannis's formation. I could see the tension on both fleets—Lannister ships pulling back to minimum safe distance, Stannis's captains realizing too late that they were sailing into a trap.
"Three minutes," I estimated, watching the distances close. "Maybe less."
I selected the largest package from my supplies—a mixture of iron filings, oil, and alchemical compounds that would create a localized electromagnetic disturbance when the wildfire detonated. The effect would be brief but intense, scrambling compass needles and disrupting the navigation of ships in the immediate blast radius.
Most of Stannis's fleet would escape the wildfire, but they'd scatter in random directions, making coordinated retreat impossible. Some would run aground on the bay's numerous sandbars. Others would collide with each other in the confusion. A few would flee so far they'd miss the rest of the battle entirely.
[Chaos Amplification: Navigation disruption prepared]
[Fleet Dispersal: Maximum confusion protocol]
[Strategic Impact: Enemy coordination eliminated]
I was preparing for the drop when the world changed.
The Brave Jester reached the center of Stannis's formation, and Tyrion's trap sprung with a violence that defied description. The ship simply vanished in a column of green flame that rose toward the heavens like the breath of a dragon god.
Then the shockwave hit.
Even at a thousand feet, the blast was like being punched by a giant's fist. Appa groaned and struggled to maintain altitude as superheated air rushed past us, carrying the stench of melted metal and burning flesh. Below, the bay transformed into a lake of emerald fire that spread outward from the blast point with terrifying speed.
[WILDFIRE DETONATION: Primary explosion confirmed]
[Blast Radius: 800+ meters expanding]
[Temperature Spike: 2000+ degrees Fahrenheit]
[Casualty Estimates: Catastrophic]
[Historical Significance: Maximum impact achieved]
Ships caught in the inner radius simply ceased to exist, vaporized by heat that could melt steel. Those in the middle zone burned like torches, their crews jumping into water that offered no escape from the spreading flames. Only vessels on the outer edge had any chance of survival.
I dropped the navigation scrambler into the heart of the chaos, watching it disappear into the green inferno. The electromagnetic pulse that followed was invisible but devastating—compass needles spinning wildly, astrolabes becoming useless, navigation instruments failing just when they were needed most.
The surviving ships scattered like leaves in a hurricane, their captains blind and panicked, their formations shattered beyond repair.
But the battle was far from over.
[Phase Two: Land-based combat commencing]
[Objective Shift: Red Keep intervention]
[Target: Strategic chaos deployment in royal chambers]
I guided Appa toward King's Landing itself, where the great Red Keep squatted on Aegon's Hill like a crimson tumor. The castle's towers provided perfect cover for aerial approach, and the chaos of battle meant that sentries were looking outward toward the bay rather than skyward for impossible threats.
"Time for the fun part," I thought, reaching for the remaining packages in my saddlebags. "Cersei's about to have a very bad night."
The Red Keep's royal chambers were easy to identify from above—the most luxurious windows, the finest architecture, the chambers where torchlight burned brightest while the city below cowered in darkness. Through one particular window, I could see the unmistakable silhouette of Queen Cersei herself, pacing back and forth as she watched her world burn.
Perfect.
The first package contained moon tea—the contraceptive herb that was both scandalous and necessary in a world where royal bastards meant political disaster. But this moon tea came with careful additions that would turn it bright purple and give it a scent that was... distinctive.
I dropped it through Cersei's window with perfect precision, watching it shatter against her chamber floor and fill the room with aromatic evidence of activities that queens were supposed to be above.
[Royal Humiliation: Phase One Deployed]
[Target: Cersei Lannister's reputation]
[Scandal Potential: Maximum embarrassment]
[Detection Probability: Delayed but inevitable]
The second package was even better.
King Joffrey's chambers were two floors below his mother's, and through the windows I could see the boy-king himself, crown askew on his blonde head as he shouted orders that no one was following. The crown—that beautiful symbol of authority—would make the perfect target.
The package contained a chemical mixture that would temporarily alter the color of gold, turning it from royal yellow to common copper-red. The effect would last for hours, making Joffrey's crown look like a peasant's costume jewelry at the exact moment when he needed to project strength and authority.
I dropped it with surgical precision, watching it shatter against Joffrey's window and spray its contents across the chamber. The king himself was untouched—I wasn't trying to hurt him, just humiliate him—but his crown caught a full dose of the color-changing compound.
[Symbol Degradation: Royal authority undermined]
[Target: Joffrey's political image]
[Effect Duration: 6-8 hours of public embarrassment]
[Psychological Impact: Authority questioning among subjects]
But my masterpiece was yet to come.
I had one final package, larger than the others and designed for maximum chaos. It contained a mixture of itching powder, staining agents, and time-release binding compounds that would activate when exposed to human body heat.
Perfect for someone who spent long hours in elaborate court dress.
I circled back toward Cersei's chambers, watching through the windows as she discovered the moon tea scattered across her floor. Even from this height, I could see her face contorting with rage and horror as she realized what the substance was and what its presence implied.
The dress package dropped through her window just as she bent to examine the moon tea, shattering against her back and coating her elaborate gown with substances that would make the next few hours extremely uncomfortable.
[Personal Assault: Dignity destruction protocol]
[Target: Queen Cersei's public composure]
[Effect Timeline: Immediate itching, progressive wardrobe degradation]
[Social Impact: Authority undermining through physical discomfort]
I guided Appa away from the Red Keep as alarms began sounding throughout the castle. Not because of my interventions—those would take time to manifest—but because of the battle's outcome. Stannis's fleet was scattered and burning, but thousands of his men had reached the shore and were now assaulting the city's landward defenses.
The real battle was just beginning.
From our aerial vantage point, I could see the fighting spreading through King's Landing's narrow streets. Stannis's men, desperate and furious after the naval disaster, were pouring through breached gates and scaling walls with the fury of soldiers who had nothing left to lose.
But they were uncoordinated, their command structure shattered along with their fleet. Instead of disciplined assault formations, they moved in scattered groups, making them vulnerable to the kind of desperate defense that Tyrion was organizing from the castle walls.
[Land Battle Assessment: Tactical chaos favoring defenders]
[Stannis Forces: Numerically superior but disorganized]
[Defender Advantage: Interior lines and preparation]
[Intervention Assessment: Timeline stable, minimal additional action required]
In the distance, I could see the telltale dust clouds that marked the approach of Tywin's army—the Lannister host arriving just in time to crush Stannis's forces between hammer and anvil. The old lion's timing was perfect, as always.
But down in the Red Keep, my interventions were beginning to manifest.
Through the great hall's windows, I could see courtiers gathering for what should have been a victory celebration. But something was wrong with the scene. People were pointing, whispering, covering their mouths in shock or amusement.
At the center of the commotion stood King Joffrey, his crown gleaming copper-red in the torchlight, his face purple with rage as he demanded to know why everyone was staring at him. The boy-king looked like exactly what he was—a petulant child playing dress-up with fake jewelry.
[Royal Authority: Successfully undermined]
[Public Confidence: Declining rapidly]
[Political Stability: Temporarily destabilized]
And somewhere above, Queen Cersei was discovering that her evening was about to become significantly more uncomfortable. The itching would start first—subtle at first, then increasingly unbearable. The staining agents would follow, creating embarrassing marks that would spread across her dress in patterns that looked suspiciously like bodily functions. The binding compounds would ensure that the more she moved, the worse everything became.
"Sometimes," I thought with grim satisfaction, "the best revenge is just making your enemies look ridiculous."
The green flames of Blackwater Bay reflected in my eyes as Appa carried us north toward Harrenhal and relative safety. Behind us, the greatest naval battle in generations was ending in decisive Lannister victory, but the cost had been enormous for both sides.
Thousands of men had died in minutes when the wildfire detonated. Stannis's invasion had been shattered before it could truly begin. And in the Red Keep, two of the most powerful people in Westeros were about to experience the kind of humiliation that would haunt them for months.
[Mission Assessment: Overwhelming Success]
[Timeline Integrity: Maintained with improvements]
[Strategic Objectives: All primary goals achieved]
[Collateral Benefits: Enemy morale significantly damaged]
[Next Phase: Return to Harrenhal, resume surveillance operations]
But as we flew north through the smoke-filled night, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something important. The battle had gone exactly as planned, my interventions had achieved their goals, and the timeline remained stable.
So why did I feel like I was flying away from something crucial?
The answer would have to wait. Below us, the Riverlands spread out in a patchwork of fields and forests, dotted with the lights of settlements that had survived another day of war. Somewhere in that landscape, Arya was learning to survive in Harrenhal, Robb was planning his next campaign, and the great game continued its bloody dance toward an uncertain future.
But for tonight, at least, the right people had won the right battle for the right reasons.
Even if they'd never know who had helped make it possible.
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