The survivors threw away their armor and weapons and fled in terror toward the mouth of the gorge, only to be mercilessly cut down by Ironborn archers and warriors waiting in ambush along the perimeter.
An army of ten thousand was all but wiped out. Blood flooded the canyon, bodies piled up like hills.
Victarion stood beside his brother, gazing over the grisly slaughter. He watched as Euron casually skewered Lucion's severed head and mounted it on the figurehead of the Silence.
The last trace of defiance he still harbored toward Euron, born of old grudges, vanished completely after this ambush, replaced by awe.
Perhaps only a man like this could truly lead the Ironborn to glory.
He lowered his head in silence, offering his complete submission.
"Clear the battlefield. Take everything of value."
Euron continued coldly, "Send out the order. All Lords are free to plunder every town in the Westerlands. Anyone who resists is to be executed on the spot."
The Ironborn tide of pillage swept across the Westerlands.
Stripped of its main army and any effective command, the Westerlands crumbled before the fury of the Iron Islands.
Town after town fell. Castle after castle burned, reduced to scorched ruins.
Three days later, Victarion strode into the Lord's Hall of Casterly Rock, now serving as a temporary command center.
"Your Grace," Victarion reported, "on the road to Casterly Rock, we captured two suspicious figures. After identification by some captured nobles, they were confirmed to be Lannister twins, a brother and sister."
Euron raised an eyebrow and gestured for them to be brought in.
Soldiers dragged in two figures covered in mud.
They wore tattered cloaks, trying to hide their faces, but their striking golden hair and faintly recognizable features could not be fully concealed.
Euron studied them with interest, then suddenly laughed.
"Well now, look who this is. Aren't you the dear Lannister Queen and her beloved regicide brother?"
Cersei and Jaime lifted their heads, their faces filled with despair.
They had endured countless hardships fleeing west, hoping to reach their family's ancestral seat at Casterly Rock to find shelter and a chance to regroup.
Instead, as they drew near, they saw that the Lannister lion banners had long been torn down, replaced by the golden Kraken standard.
The once impregnable Casterly Rock had already fallen into Ironborn hands.
They tried to gather information, only to learn that all Lannister family members who had remained behind had been executed on Euron's orders.
The blow left them reeling. Before long, Ironborn patrols discovered and captured them.
Euron brought Cersei and Jaime back to his flagship, the Silence.
The ship was immense and uncanny, its atmosphere as grim and oppressive as a ghost vessel.
Jaime was thrown into a cramped cell in the lower hold. The wooden door slammed shut, leaving him alone with despair.
Cersei, by contrast, was taken to Euron's captain's cabin.
To stay alive, the once-proud Queen cast aside every shred of dignity. She swallowed her fear and used every skill she had ever learned to ingratiate herself with the terrifying man before her.
She spoke of her misfortunes, hinting that her allure had not entirely faded.
Euron examined her with his single blue eye. Though a scar marred her face and weariness showed in her expression, her foundation remained intact. The fragility revealed after her pride had been crushed carried a strange, intoxicating charm.
"Very well."
At last, Euron smiled. He lifted her chin with a finger.
"Since you desire it so much, from today onward, you are my salt-wife."
Relief surged through Cersei, the feeling of having survived a calamity.
She quickly lowered her head in submission.
Euron installed his new salt-wife in the most luxurious chambers of Casterly Rock.
Day and night, he indulged himself there with Cersei, savoring the pleasure of conquering a Queen.
When Jaime learned that Cersei had slept with Euron just to stay alive, he was plunged into torment.
Worse still, in the lower hold of the Silence, he could faintly hear the wailing cries of an old man in the neighboring compartment every night.
The sounds tortured him, sending chills through his bones.
What drove him deeper into despair was that Cersei, in order to secure her standing, had willingly revealed certain secrets of Casterly Rock to Euron.
With this information, Euron uncovered a vast hoard of gold secretly stockpiled by Great Lord Tywin, far more than he had expected.
He showed no restraint, emptying the vaults completely and loading all the gold onto his fleet.
On one occasion, Cersei was even allowed to go down into the hold to visit Jaime.
"Look, Jaime. We're still alive."
Her voice trembled, yet carried a strange excitement. "Euron is powerful, stronger than anyone. He protects me. He even likes me. We found so much gold, so very much…"
Jaime stared at her in disbelief, as though he were seeing this woman for the first time.
Wildfire had consumed King's Landing. She had allowed The Mountain to slaughter the people of Gulltown.
And now she had thrown herself into the arms of the man who destroyed their house, the enemy who butchered their kin, and she was proud of it?
"You're mad, Cersei."
Jaime's voice was hoarse. "You've truly gone mad. Do you even understand what you're doing? You're a Lannister!"
"A Lannister?"
Cersei burst into a shrill, hysterical laugh. "The Lannisters are finished! Only staying alive matters! What do you know? You couldn't even protect me! When I was crying in Duskendale, it was The Mountain who saved me. Where were you then?!"
Watching his sister in this state, the love that had burned in Jaime's heart for decades finally cooled, then shattered completely, turning into pure hatred.
He stopped looking at her and silently turned to face the cold stone wall.
Cersei spat a few curses and left in a huff.
Half a month later, Euron had stripped the Westerlands of its wealth and was preparing to march south, setting his sights on the richer lands of The Reach.
The fleet was ready to sail.
On the night before departure, Cersei made one last attempt to win Jaime over and came to his cell again.
The moment she opened the door, Jaime suddenly lifted his head.
His eyes were terrifyingly calm. The love that once filled them was gone, replaced by a dead, icy stillness.
He spoke slowly. "Cersei, I once loved you more than anything. More than honor. More than life itself. We came into this world together, and I thought we would leave it together."
Cersei froze, seemingly unnerved by her brother's unnatural composure.
Jaime continued, stepping toward her one pace at a time. "But look at what we've become. Look at what you've become. You ruined me, and you ruined yourself. You're no longer the woman I loved. You're just an empty shell, swallowed by power and madness."
"You… you're talking nonsense!"
Cersei backed away in panic, but the cell was too small. There was nowhere to retreat.
"All I feel for you now is disappointment, and hatred!"
Jaime's hands shot up, fast and precise, clamping around Cersei's slender neck.
Her eyes flew wide, filled with disbelief and terror.
She struggled uselessly, kicking and thrashing, but Jaime's strength far exceeded hers.
Her face went from red to purple, her tongue slowly protruding…
Jaime watched as the light faded from her eyes. A final tear slid down his cheek.
There was a soft crack as Cersei's neck snapped.
Her body went limp, the struggle ending at last.
Jaime gently laid her corpse on the floor. Then, without hesitation, he turned and rushed out of the cell, slipping past several half-asleep guards before throwing himself into the cold, black sea.
He swam with all his strength toward the coastline etched in his memory, the icy water biting into his nerves.
Free.
He was finally free of it all.
But at that very moment, a massive crossbow bolt shot out from the deck of the Silence.
It struck the struggling figure in the water with perfect accuracy.
Jaime's body jolted violently as overwhelming pain tore through him.
He lowered his head and saw a cold iron shaft jutting from his chest.
Blood quickly spread through the surrounding seawater.
His strength drained away, his consciousness beginning to blur.
High above on the deck, Euron Greyjoy lowered the great crossbow. His single eye watched the crimson ripples spreading across the sea, a cold sneer tugging at his lips.
"What a pity. I was going to take him to Oldtown to watch my grand performance."
He shrugged and turned to give the order. "Fill that woman's corpse with seawater. The Drowned God will bless her. The dead shall not die!"
The Iron Fleet moved slowly across the waves, sailing south toward richer seas.