Chapter 54 :- Falcon V/s Craken

As the board has been set, threats has been made now the only thing remaining is war. Rodrik has called upon his houses for the war council. All of the houses gathered with the seven days time Rodrik has given Iron Islands as Rodrik knew they would never surrender to them. Iron Borns tried to attack many places between those days but Rodrik has planned for that & trained soldiers were ready for them after they landed. Only few of those were able to return to their ships.

Everynobel Man & Women were present there in the Rodrik's tent. Everyone was quiet as everyone knew that they had to fight but nobady was confident that they would win. Rodrik was sitting in his chair looking at the map which is spread on the table.

" You know why all of you have been called, You know the reason for this, so I won't bore you with the details but if anybody wants to say something before I start on the strategy them please say now" Rodrik said in solemn tone while looking slowly towards each nobel.

Rhea looked at Rodrik took deep breath " My Lord, do not take my world as one for opposing you. I am the one most grateful to you for many things you have done for me & my lands. You have brought safety & prosperity to not only for me but everyone here. You have proven yourself in both Governance & war. I would follow your command if you tell me to fight anyone everylife in our lands will fight for you".

" I sense a but coming" Rodrik said with a smirk.

Rhea took a gap & started saying again" But, we can't win with Ironborns. I know that we have a large fleet & have great wealth. But they won't fight us on land & on water they are unmatched. No matter how much I want to erase them they are supirior in their element. If we engage with them we would loose".

None of the nobels told anything adding to it but by seeing their expression Rodrik knew that all of them were thinking the same thing.

" You are right, normally no matter what we do, no matter how big our fleet is we won't be able to beat them with normal methods" Rodrik spoke with a mysterious wibe.

Lord Leowyn Corbray looked at Rodrik & said " My Lord you sound like you have a plan to turn around this situation".

Rodrik smiled & told them his plan in detail. After listening to his plan.

" This can be done" Rhea said while getting stunned with Rodrik's military mind. There has been many rulers in the past some were good in ruling some were good in matter of war but there has never been someone like him who were great in both & if he came on top in this then that will send a precedence like none before. No one other then the Targeryen would be able to threaten them.

Everyother Nobel also got excited with Rodrik's plan & a war cry rang in the tent.

Rodrik looked at everyone & said " So let the games begin".

In the following weeks some small skirmishes between Vale's fleet & Iron Borns happened. Many of those resulted in the defeat & retreat of Vale's forces. Confidence of Iron Borns were sky high.

Ironborns tried to attack many places near the shores but Rodrik has migrated all the villagers near the shores into walled & protected cities so Ironborns were not able to do any raving & went back in their ships.

The small skirmishes were converting into small wars.

The first true battle was at sea, near Pebbleton. Rodrik sent half a fleet under House Waynwood banner. The Ironborn pounced—and annihilated them.

The Ironborn laughed.In the pyke major celebration were going on. Lord Dalton Greyjoy raised a golden goblet. "So much for their Lord of Strategy."

Even in King's Landing, lords whispered:

"Rorik thought himself as some incarnation of the seven. He will lead Vale to ruin."

But in Vale Rodrik's smile remained.

The second battle was near Long Point. Again, the Ironborn struck fast. Again, Rodrik's fleet was defeated—though this time, they damaged several Ironborn longships.

"Progress," Rodrik noted.

His council watched him with suspicion. they knew about his plan but still these constant defeats have made them doubt it.

Then came the last act of the show Rodrik accumulated the full might of Vale in a grand fleet which consisted of more than thousand ships including all type.

They attached isle of Harlaw the land of House Harlaw the second most powerfull house after House Greyjoys in Iron Islands.

Rodrik launched a sudden and fierce assault on the Isle of Harlaw, the seat of House Harlaw and one of the richest islands in the Ironborn chain. The Vale fleet, bolstered by swift ships and hardened mariners, stormed the coast under the cover of night. The Ironborn were caught off guard—most of their strength had been concentrated near Pyke, expecting the main blow there.

Harbor towns burned. Supply depots were seized. And as the morning tide rose, Rodrik directed his fleet toward Harlaw Hall itself.

For a moment, it seemed the Vale might take one of the Iron Islands entirely.

But the sea is the Ironborn's realm, and the tide turned quickly.

Dalton Greyjoy, the Red Kraken himself, had returned to Pyke just in time to lead a massive counterstrike. Horns blared across the waves as the combined fleets of Pyke, Blacktyde, and Orkmont descended upon Harlaw's waters. Rodrik, assessing the oncoming flood of Ironborn vessels, gave a quiet command:

"Retreat."

The Vale fleet broke away, their prows slicing through the waves. The Ironborn, hungry for vengeance, gave pursuit.

The Fog Rises

Rodrik's ships appeared to flee in panic—but every move had purpose. The Vale sailors began tossing barrels overboard as they fled. When cracked open by the waves, these barrels released a thick, fast-spreading chemical mixture—a compound Rodrik had designed over the past fortnight using a blend of resin, lime, and specially treated moss soaked in vinegar and ash.

A thick, choking fog rose from the sea.

The Ironborn slowed, confused. The fog clung to their sails and rigging. It blinded their helmsmen and dulled the sound of signals. Ships collided with one another. The cries of confused sailors echoed in every direction.

Rodrik had planned for this.

Vale ships, having practiced in this very fog off the cliffs of Gulltown, returned swiftly in silence. Their sails were trimmed for stealth, and their crews moved like ghosts through the murk. Each ship knew its target. Ironborn vessels were struck from the shadows—ropes thrown to entangle their rudders, fire arrows setting sails aflame, hooks dragging crews into the sea.

Dalton Greyjoy stood on the deck of his flagship, Saltwail, straining to see through the fog. Then came the first impact.

A Vale war galley rammed Saltwail's flank. Another hit its stern moments later. Fire erupted across the decks. Screaming sailors stumbled into the smoke and water.

Dalton drew his axe. "Fight them off, you salt-soaked cowards!" he roared, but it was too late. Saltwail was ablaze, her masts cracking in the heat.

The Fog Breaks

Dalton's command ship was struck thrice. He fought with fury, cutting down two knights, but the tide was turning.

"Withdraw!" he roared, bloodied and raging. "Back to Pyke!"

Of more than thousand of Ironborn ships, only a handful escaped. The once-proud Iron Fleet was shattered, burning or sunken beneath the mist-shrouded sea.

Dalton Greyjoy, furious and defeated, barely escaped with a fractured mast and a burned banner. He would live—but his pride and fleet had been broken.

Rodrik saw him escaping but decided to let him go because he knew that if Dalton was killed the Iron Islands would surrender but he doesn't want that. He was true to his words he will remove this fucked up way of Drowned god from this world.

Jaymee came to him fully covered in blood of the enemies " What should we do now?".

Rodrik looked everywhere they have won it doens't mean that they didn't suffer damages. He would need to press on right now otherwise the momentum will break & something unexpected can happen so he ordered his fleet to move to Pyke to close the chapter once & for all.

Dalton Greyjoy limped back to Pyke with only a handful of battered ships. His once-mighty Iron Fleet was shattered, his pride drowning in the salt and smoke of defeat. But the Red Kraken was not ready to yield. Bloodied but burning with vengeance, he sent word across the Iron Islands, demanding every seaworthy vessel be brought to Pyke.

Rodrik, meanwhile, had anticipated the move. Just days after the retreat from Harlaw, he launched a full assault on Pyke with the grand fleet of the Vale. The Ironborn, caught off-guard and still reeling, could do little as the Vale ships rained fire upon their docks. In a fury of flaming arrows, and steel, the rest of the Iron Fleet was put to the torch.

Rodrik's forces landed and carved a bloody path through the isle, pushing steadily toward Dunlunce Castle. The ancient stronghold stood defiant, high on its cliffs, fortified and unforgiving. Knowing its walls could not be breached without heavy losses, Rodrik ordered a siege. His army, well-stocked and disciplined, pitched tents around the fortress and prepared for a long wait.

Inside, Dalton Greyjoy was a storm of rage. He knew what awaited him if the castle fell. He took out his wrath on his servants, killing several in madness before crafting a desperate plan. He penned a letter to King Viserys in King's Landing, surrendering and pleading for Targaryen mediation. But the raven never made it past the cliffs—Rodrik had ordered all messenger birds to be intercepted and slain.

In a cruel effort to demoralize the besiegers, Dalton began sending bodies over the walls—women and children, hoping to shatter Rodrik's will. But Rodrik did not waver. His jaw set, he watched the horrors unfold without flinching. "They're already dead," he said once, quietly to Jaymee. "We must make sure they didn't die for nothing."

After seven grim days, Dalton unleashed his fury. The castle gates burst open, and the Ironborn poured out in a berserker charge. They fought like men with nothing left to lose, and at the head of them came Dalton himself—red-eyed, roaring, cutting through Vale soldiers like a man possessed.

Rodrik, caught amidst the fray, found himself face-to-face with the Red Kraken. Their blades clashed, steel ringing against steel, but it became clear quickly—Dalton was stronger, faster, and more experienced. Rodrik fought valiantly, but he was driven back, bloodied and staggering.

As Dalton raised his axe for the final blow, a sword pierced his back. Gasping in pain and fury, he turned, only to be stabbed again—this time in the chest. He fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mouth, and collapsed at Rodrik's feet.

Jaymee stood over him, her blade stained red, breath heavy. "You were told to stay near me," he scolded, glaring at Rodrik.

Rodrik, still in shock, whispered, "Thank you."

With Dalton Greyjoy dead, the will of the Ironborn crumbled. One by one, their weapons fell. The castle gates opened not in defiance, but in surrender.

The war was over.

And Rodrik stood victorious.