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Dragonstone stood beneath the morning light with the flaming stag still flying above its walls.
The castle had been raised from black Valyrian stone, its towers shaped like dragons, its battlements crowded with gargoyles and twisted beasts. Even after years of war and hunger, the fortress still looked as if it had grown out of the island itself.
The assault horn sounded below.
Ironborn warriors surged up the narrow mountain stair with shields raised over their heads. Arrows hissed down from the walls. Stones bounced and shattered along the steps. Boiling oil mixed with filth poured from above, turning the first ranks into screaming shapes that tumbled back into the men behind them.
The stair was too narrow for numbers to matter. Men could only climb into death a few at a time.
On the walls, Stannis Baratheon watched the first assault without a change in expression.
Davos Seaworth stood beside him. The Onion Knight's weathered face had grown even more lined in recent months. After watching another group of ironborn stumble back beneath the rain of arrows, he lowered his voice and said, "Your Grace, Dragonstone cannot hold for long.
"Robb Stark controls the Seven Kingdoms in all but name now. The Iron Throne is in his hands. The Westerlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, the Riverlands, the Vale, the North, and even most of the Iron Islands obey him.
"If we open negotiations now, there may still be a way to preserve Princess Shireen and Queen Selyse."
Stannis turned his head slowly.
"Preserve them?" His voice was flat enough to scrape stone. "By surrendering?"
"By living, Your Grace."
For a moment, only the sound of battle rose between them.
Then Stannis said, "I am Azor Ahai reborn. The Lord of Light shines upon me. So long as I draw breath, I will not kneel to a false king."
Davos closed his eyes for half a heartbeat. "Your Grace..."
"Lord Seaworth," Stannis said, and now there was command in his voice. "You have spoken treason out of loyalty. I know the difference. That is why I will not take your head."
Several guards stepped closer.
"Take him to the dungeon tower."
Davos did not struggle. He only looked at Stannis one last time before the guards led him away.
Below, Theon Greyjoy watched his own men continue to die on the steps and could no longer keep silent.
"Your Grace," he said to Robb, forcing himself to sound calm, "if we keep throwing ironborn into that stair, we will bleed ourselves dry before we reach the first gate. Why must Dragonstone be taken in such haste?"
Robb turned from the battlefield and looked at him.
Crey, Gendry, Asha, and the others nearby all fell quiet.
Robb did not answer at once. He only said, "Leave us."
The commanders withdrew. Asha gave Theon one quick glance before she went.
When only the two of them remained, Robb's voice cooled. "Theon, do not question my decision in front of the army again."
Theon's throat tightened. "I meant no disrespect."
"I know. That is why I am explaining it to you." Robb looked back toward the stair. "Crey asks questions before a decision is made. Once the order is given, he obeys it. Learn that difference."
Theon lowered his head. "Yes, Your Grace."
"As for why the ironborn are taking the vanguard," Robb continued, "that is also part of the plan. Euron Greyjoy has returned to the Iron Islands. He is stirring the captains and calling for another kingsmoot."
Theon looked up sharply.
"Asha still has many men loyal to her. Too many. The ones willing to spend their lives here are the ones I least need alive when you return home."
Theon's expression shifted from anger to surprise, then to something more complicated.
Robb said, "After Dragonstone falls, I will help you settle the Iron Islands."
For a long moment, Theon could not speak. At last, he bowed his head again, this time sincerely. "Your Grace."
Robb looked toward the black walls.
"Now watch."
Bloodwind stepped forward.
Mist rolled from the ice direwolf's body. It poured over the narrow stair and rose in a bright white sheet. Under Robb's will, the mist hardened into plates of ice and crystal that locked together above the steps like a covered passage.
Arrows struck the new roof and broke. Stones bounced and rolled aside. Boiling oil splashed across the shining surface, but the passage kept forming, climbing the mountain stair toward the outer gate.
The ironborn stared for a breath. Then their captains began shouting.
"Forward!"
This time the assault did not break.
The vanguard climbed beneath the ice-crystal tunnel, shields raised though they hardly needed them now. When they reached the gate, axes and hooks began their work. Behind them, more men pushed upward, filling the covered stair with iron and fury.
Dragonstone's outer gate fell before noon.
Half the defenders retreated toward the inner wall. Rolland Storm took command there, gathering what remained of the garrison and preparing for a last defense around the Stone Drum.
Stannis did not stay with them.
He crossed the high stone bridge leading from the Stone Drum to the dungeon tower. The wind snapped his cloak around him. The sea roared far below.
Davos was sitting in the dark when the door opened.
Stannis entered alone.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then Stannis drew his sword and placed the hilt in Davos's hands.
Davos stared at him. "Your Grace?"
"Robb Stark will not trust a surrender offered by my mouth," Stannis said. "He may trust one offered with my head."
Davos's face went white.
"No."
"You will take my head to him. You will bargain for Shireen and Selyse. You will make him swear to spare them."
"No, Your Grace."
"This is an order."
Davos's hands shook around the sword. "I have disobeyed you before when I believed it saved you from sin. I will disobey you again if I must. I will not murder my king."
For the first time that day, something like weariness crossed Stannis's face.
"You have always been a good and loyal man, Davos Seaworth."
Then Stannis stepped forward.
The blade punched into his chest.
Davos cried out and tried to pull back, but Stannis had already driven himself onto the steel. Blood darkened the front of his tunic. His knees buckled.
Davos caught him as he fell.
"Your Grace. Stannis. No, no..."
Stannis's breath came rough and shallow. "Save... Shireen."
The last word left him like smoke.
Davos held him until he was still.
The inner gate opened before the next assault began.
Robb stood before the breached wall with Bloodwind at his side when Davos Seaworth came out. The Onion Knight carried a wrapped bundle in both hands. His eyes were red, but his back remained straight.
Rolland Storm and the remaining garrison followed him, their swords reversed.
Davos knelt.
"Your Grace," he said hoarsely. "Stannis Baratheon is dead. I bring you his head and the surrender of Dragonstone."
The men around Robb fell silent.
Davos raised the bundle. "I ask terms for Princess Shireen and Queen Selyse."
Robb looked at the cloth, then at the man holding it.
He understood then that the last nail had been driven in.
The Seven Kingdoms were his.
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