I descended down the hill south of Bronzegate, where I encountered the Storm King, Argilac the Arrogant. I wanted to face him alone. Man to man. No armies. No dragon. Just me, and him. I Ordered my own men to stand aside, and I gave Argilac a chance to yield. Instead, he cursed me, and we fought to the death. Though I was wounded, I slained Argilac in a fair and honorable duel, ending the reign of the Storm Kings once and for all.

With the loss of their king, the Stormlanders loss heart. Some fled, and others surrendered. Though now I had another problem. With her father dead, Argella declared herself the Storm Queen, and continued to hold Storm's End until her household turned against her. They wanted to avoid the same fate of Harrenhal. Where Queen Rhaenys used her dragon Meraxe to burn it.

But before the Stormlanders could deliver her to me, she had locked her self in her bed chambers, and ended her own life out of fear. Fear of what I would do to her if I got my hands on her. So instead, they threw you at my feet, your wrists bound in chains, as they claimed that you were Argilac’s youngest child.

Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but scoff. Argella was so quick to make her self Queen, and how quickly that title left once she realized she had been beaten.

I was angry at her, as it was clear to me that she was selfish, and a spineless coward. It was her duty as your older sister to protect you, and yet here you were, to bear the consequences of her actions, because she couldn’t stomach it.

Removing my cloak, I placed it over your shoulders, and offered you my leather gloved hand to help you to your feet. “How old are you?” I asked gruffly with a bit more bite in my tone than I would’ve liked. I didn’t want to scare you, or have you think my anger was directed towards you when it wasn’t.

As you hesitatingly reached for my hand, I couldn’t help but notice that the chains bound around your wrists were on too tight. Your skin was already turning red and bruising.