[Edric's POV]
Volantis, arguably the greatest power of the Free Cities right next to Braavos and the first daughter of Valyrian Freehold, would not fall without a fight. The city's walls were lined with siege engines, and so was its navy. When the Robert's Hammer and the Royal Armada came into view, the city came entirely alive - every man, woman and slave dedicated to one cause;
Defending the city...
Or were they?
...
23rd of the 2nd Moon, 301 AC.
The sun shone upon Volantis.
The Royal Armada came to a stop at a distance where no siege engine would be able to reach it. This sudden halt befuddled the city's defenders. They would know soon enough.
Edric stepped onto the deck of his ship and formed a bow of pure lightning - grasping it in his bare hand. The wind surged as the black stag upon his golden cloak danced. He formed one thick lightning arrow without a hint of haste.
His form was perfect...
And so was the arrow that he fired.
"Let there be rain."
It soared through the air, free as a dragon. One measly arrow flowing with the power to destroy anything in its path. It flew right to the sky, seemingly striking nothing until it suddenly stopped right above Volantis. The arrow split into a hundred others - shooting off like stars in all directions.
Like a chain of lightning, every siege engine was struck - exploding into flame. Every slave near one would not see another day.
It was a crushing blow to morale.
"This... is the power of a God..." Belicho Staegone, one of the Triarchs observing the display, was shocked to the core. "Unstoppable, inevitable... divine. This is Volantis' judgement."
Once the defences of Volantis had been crippled, the engines placed upon their ships would follow with a second rain of arrows. Although the ships themselves were not damaged much. No bit of lightning was too little or too great, perfectly called upon for its purpose. This deadly efficiency made it seem as if Edric's power was endless.
Then... came the third rain of arrows.
Hundreds upon hundreds of small arrows would disperse, each finding its target, each stopping the heart of a man. The decks of dozens of ships dropped dead in mere seconds. Their fleet had collapsed before there was any engagement.
As Robert's Hammer began to advance, there was little resistance.
Volantis' navy retreated to the harbour, its men speeding for the walls.
Edric would shoot down every major gate before the Royal Armada landed across the colossal harbour, each ship docking at once. Ser Barristan, the Kingsguard and ten thousand Unsullied advanced from the south-westernmost point - carving a path through the city. At the same time, Edric led the charge on western Volantis with his Stormguard, royalists and Iron Legionaries. Despite his force being only seven thousand strong, it felt like an unstoppable horde to the Volantenes...
Edric bathed in blood, his warhammer bashing dozens, even hundreds of skulls. No man would need more than one blow. The mere sight of his antlered helm brought waves of terror. The demon had no face... only burning purple eyes.
Even when his foes surrendered, he killed them regardless.
There was no mercy.
Meanwhile, the nobility had retreated behind the Black Walls on the eastern shore. At the same time, Ser Barristan and his legion conquered everything around them. Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion had provided support, burning, clawing and biting into the occasional elephant. The two forces would meet at the centre of Volantis, the Long Bridge, which united East and West Volantis.
"They've hidden themselves behind the Black Walls, Your Grace. The rest of the city has fallen."
"Take my two legions and sack the city," Edric's words were blunt, harsh and indifferent. "Take everything of value. Set the rest on fire."
"... Is that truly necessary?"
"Volantis shall live as a reminder of what befalls those who stand against me."
"Yes, Your Grace."
With his five thousand royalists, all of those who had survived the invasion on Pentos, the brutal Battle of the Orange Shore and all of the following sieges... Edric stormed the Black Walls.
Inside was a labyrinth of palaces, courtyards, towers, temples, cellars and chambers. His forces spread all over while thousands of Tiger cloaks defended with their lives, showing great loyalty in a place where there was no victory. Their commander led a unit of elites, the protectors of the Old Blood. Each man of this small group wielded valyrian steel weapons.
This unit cut down dozens of Edric's men. Then, came the archers and scorpions from above the towers. The Black Walls had been turned into a dozen castles within one. Dozens became a hundred casualties... and they continued to pile on, almost quicker than Edric could butcher his opposition.
"All forces, retreat!" Edric commanded. "This is a death trap."
Edric stood as the magic shield guarding the retreat, letting most of his men pass safely. Once they retreated from the Black Walls, he stood alone, his tattered cape slowly waving.
"Your Grace?" Ragnor questioned. "Why aren't you retreating?"
"Make sure no one leaves."
Edric advanced alone.
The Tiger cloaks moved in from all sides, streaming in to surround Edric. He welcomed the challenge. Using his magic, he was able to keep himself from being smothered. Yet... they were relentless, like waves of the ocean. As arrows soared from the sky, he wasn't bothered by them... until one pierced through his armour and went deep into his side. His blood splattered onto the ground.
"Was that... valyrian steel?"
While he was stunned, a massive stone pillar fell on his back - smashing him onto the ground. He spat out a mouthful of blood, his sight blurred as his body shook with pain. Another followed, crashing onto his lower body. He had even lost hold on his warhammer. These were blows that would crush any man to death, yet...
He still breathed.
And one breath was all he needed.
"Rai...tei..."
The Black Walls shook from his fury. He let out a piercing roar that made every lesser man retreat several steps. Lightning, fire, and wind surged from his body... exploding all at once and breaking the pillars. Edric rose from the ground thereafter, his eyes seeing only red.
Every man near him was impaled by a spear, emerging from the Plane of Euthymia.
Then Edric raised his hands and unleashed a massive chain of lightning, one hand to the east and the other to the west. These two chains united as each electrified man became a pathway to the next - until it met a third stone pillar, which halted the lightning.
The most decorated of all the Tiger cloaks he had seen, their commander, stood steadfast with a stone shield that resembled Garth's creation and an axe... of Valyrian steel. The men closest to him also wielded Valyrian steel.
"So... it was you."
Edric raised his hand to the sky, and a pillar of lightning fell upon the tower of archers, delivering judgment on his foes. The arrow that had pierced his body had been stored away. Only then did he turn his attention to the commander, as his warhammer flew into his left and he drew out Blackfyre from a portal connecting to the Plane of Euthymia.
A flame flickered where he had been wounded, slowly closing it.
Edric charged into their formation. Shields were raised, along with spears. He tossed his warhammer with enough force to collapse half the wall of shields. As he sped to carve a path, the commander blocked the way with his shield and raised his axe with great speed.
Edric tilted his head, watching as the axe chopped one of his antlers. Time didn't even slow... he acted with instinct, Blackfyre cutting through the air and separating the Valyrian steel axe-head from the rest with one fine slash. Before he could continue his onslaught, the Tiger cloaks surrounded him.
He grabbed the axe head, charged it with lightning and tossed it like a shuriken. Several throats were sliced. The commander tried to shield-bash Edric, but Edric stopped it with his palm, lightning engulfing his hand and melting through the shield. The commander exercised his Geo magic, trying to bolster his defence... but it was futile. Edric's lightning spread like a chain, shattering it.
"Ran out of energy? A pity. Now you shall know my pain."
A shinto shrine fell on the commander, squashing him into the ground. The force had broken his body in two.
The rest of the Tiger cloaks stepped back as Edric turned to them.
He stepped forward, stepping on the commander's head... and squashing it under his foot. The molten liquid from the steel shield had dripped onto his arm, burning it. It did not even concern him - only giving rise to his fury.
As he looked at his foes, a demonic laughter left Edric. This startled them further. Was this thing even human? Some of the Tiger cloaks had lost their will to fight entirely, running the opposite way. As they did so, his laughter only grew louder.
"There is no running from me."
...
"You don't have to go through with this... I can give you everything, anything!" Belicho Staegone, one of the Triarchs, looked like a cornered mouse as Edric advanced on him. There was not a single soul to save him.
"Give me your life."
Edric's words chilled him. The Triarch fell to the ground in fear - a place no Triarch should touch, for they were considered too high. Edric raised his warhammer and smashed it against the man's ribcage, shattering it. He did so, again and again, until every bone was broken.
Even then... that did not satisfy his bloodlust.
...
Nyessos Vhassar was next, watching helplessly beside his family as Edric dealt with their guards like stepping on ants.
"H-have mercy, mighty conqueror..." He mumbled. "Mayhaps we can come to some deal, I have many beautiful daughters... they could serve you. They have the Old Blood, true Valyrians..."
Edric turned to the side and looked at them, laughing.
"Who the fuck do you think I am?"
He spread his fingers and shot out fire across the entire chamber, burning all of his family members. The Triarch watched in absolute horror, his cries matching their screams.
"They... they were innocent..."
"And their deaths fall on your shoulders."
"What kind of monster are you?" The Triarch trembled.
"The vengeful kind."
He grabbed the Triarch by the neck, raising him off the ground and slowly squeezing the life out of him. He smashed him against the wall once... twice... thrice... continuing many times over. By the time he was done, what was left of the Triarch was engraved in the wall.
...
Malaquo Maegyr, the last of the Triarchs, sat alone in a throne - awaiting his end. He did not look surprised at the sight of Edric Baratheon slowly approaching him. Each step sounded like a mountain falling onto the ground.
"So this is how the eldest daughter of Valyria's flame goes out. We had thought ourselves so wise, ambushing you from all sides before you had grown too powerful. All we did was bring doom upon ourselves, in the end..."
Edric gave no reply, sliding the warhammer against the ground as he neared.
"If I must die, I shall do so without fear."
"We shall see."
~
[Daenerys' POV]
The inside of the Black Walls was a haunting sight at every turn. Blood trails, pools of blood, severed heads and limbs, impaled corpses, endless broken bones, organs and brains spilling out, thousands of corpses - men, women, children. There was not a single soul that remained resident. Only servants had been spared, who had long since left.
Even Daenerys, who was not foreign to bloodshed, found it all too sickening. It took great will not to add to the pools beneath her feet. This was all done by one hand...
She continued to explore the rest of the labyrinth, discovering many more horrors while a century of Unsullied followed closely behind.
It was at the centre of it all, a brilliant and bloodied throne that Edric sat. Valyrian steel weapons decorated the throne, resembling what Daenerys would have imagined the Iron Throne to be. A spear bearing his personal sigil, the crowned Black Stag on a field of gold and accompanied by lightning above it, had been impaled through the mouth of a man she had not recognised.
One of the antlers of his helmet had been cut, and there was a large and clear gap in his armour to the side. That was no small wound. The lower half of his left arm was bare, cut open from the top... and burning.
He tilted his head as he saw her approach.
"Daenerys..."
"Will you recover from this?" She reached him, taking a closer look. She hadn't ever seen him so wounded. Khal Drogo had died from the smallest of cuts, so she couldn't help the feeling of worry that washed over her. "Will you?"
"It does hurt..." He admitted, lying back. "Everything hurts. But... the funny thing is... I hurt myself more than they hurt me, haha..."
"That's foolishly careless of you."
"I felt so... alive. There's no feeling as beautiful as that."
"And the old aristocracy of Volantis paid the price."
"Will you cry to me about the poor children?"
"I know why you did it, but that doesn't make it any better..." Daenerys sighed, shaking her head.
"Tell your Unsullied to leave us and ensure that no one enters."
"... Why?"
"I have a surprise for you."
"..." Daenerys was hesitant for a moment. "Very well."
She gave the order in High Valyrian, leaving her and Edric alone. He removed his helmet, revealing his black hair and tossed it to the side. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto him.
"Why do you look so beautiful today..."
His unburnt right hand traced her neck. On another day, she might have been pleased to hear those words. She could feel his heart pounding, burning. The slaughter hadn't been enough to put out his flame.
"We... shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"It's not... appropriate."
"Most places and times are suitable, remember?"
"I... don't want to."
"I'm starting to think I should've accepted that one Triarch's offer... if only for a short while..." He looked rather disappointed. "His daughters did not look so terrible."
"You should rest and recover from your wounds," She advised, standing up.
"You've just opened a new one, sweetheart... and there's only one cure."
Edric grabbed her hand once more, rougher this time. He breathed flame, and the top of the back of her dress turned to ash - yet none of the fire came close to her.
"We've played this terrible game where one of us has the desire while the other does not... before, it was my fault, to be certain. But now... what's the issue? Are you afraid of me? Disgusted?"
"I don't believe you to be in the right state of mind."
"Sounds like a pathetic excuse... You know what my heart tells me?" He pulled her back on top of him. "To take you anyway."
"If anything, the prospect of you fighting back is oddly... exciting."
He had grabbed hold of her neck, making her face him before pressing his lips against hers. Despite her words, her body reacted differently. She did not put up much of a fight, accepting his tongue all too gladly. The truth was, she found Edric's forcefulness arousing.
It was night and day compared to his usual reluctance.
"You can't say no to me, it seems..." Edric recognised this, grinning slightly as he stroked the side of her face. "It's adorable."
"I..." Daenerys tried to put on a face of shame and denial. "You couldn't be more wrong, bastard."
"Now you're just adding fuel to the fire."
Edric rose and put her down onto the throne, ripping the rest of her clothes off as if it were a sheet of paper. He slowly removed his own armour, while standing like an impassable pillar. Once ready, he then raised and spread her legs, putting her in a rather embarrassing position before laying siege on another set of walls.
There was nothing that Edric could not conquer... which would include her as well.
In the ashes of Volantis and its Old Blood, a dragonlord and the Sovereign of the New World had been conceived.