Game of Thrones: The Prideful One

Author Note: This novel is around seventy percent done, so things will start to fall into place and stuff sooner than later!

So if you want to read chapters ahead what I have done so far, be sure to check my patreón! I have fourteen chapters ahead!

Also I'm starting a new novel on my pàtreon first! But it will come way later on, I will post here once I have 20 chapters at least on patreón, I don't know if some of you remember at the beginning of this novel that I said I had a marvel gamer idea, well, I decided to flesh that out, with the first chapter already being on Patreón.

For that novel the chapters are around 3000-4000 words per chapter.

The first chapter is 3400 words so yeah big bois

Again my dear people, just letting you sexy readers know but I will post here only after I have enough backup for a daily update!

https://www.patreón.com/cornbringer

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No wall surrounds my war camp, and yet, the Sealord was hesitant to attack me, he knew I was while young, dangerous, unpredictable. Or perhaps I was predictable? After all.

All I do is win, but forgetting for a moment about feeding my own ego, I knew he didn't have the power to fight me upfront, but that didn't mean he would resort to other methods

"My King," Ser Barristan said, as he entered my room, his face letting me know he had something important to share.

"Yes?" I inquired.

"There is a messenger from Braavos here," Ser Barristan answered, and this information confused me a bit, didn't I told the Sealord a day ago I would kill him? Why in the seven hells would he send someone to talk to me?

Taking a deep breath, I get off my tent, seeing a massive black horse rearing close to me, dust curling around its hooves, the horse was probably one of the most beautiful horses I've ever seen, and atop of that magestic horse, a piece of shit.

A Bravoosi messenger with a terribly scarred face and a pair of gold teeth, of course, he didn't come alone but considering that all he brought to a camp with ninety thousand soldiers was nothing but fifteen men, it was technically as if he came alone, seriously what can fifteen men do with these numbers.

The messenger took a step forwards, and I could already taste the smugness he emanated, "I bring word from the GREAT Sealord of Braavos,"

"We can debate on the 'Great' part," I chuckled, if he was so great why counsel he comprehend my clear hostility towards him.

Many of my Dothraki approach the man with smirks on their faces, they touch the messenger hair and smell around him, and soon they all start to laugh, "My Khal, this man smells like a woman,"

I started to laugh with my men, "Well, I suppose it was to be expected,"

"A man that doesn't ride into battle is no men," My bloodrider said with a smile.

The messenger was by this point incredibly infuriated, hands griping his pants, "Westerosi arrogance! It will be the death of you all. If it were not for the diplomacy of the Great Sealord, I would rip the breath from your lungs, with my bare hands."

I chuckled as I walked towards him, leaning close to him handing him a knife, "Oh my, threaten me with a good time, go ahead do it, none of my men will move, but be sure to kill on your first shot, because if you don't, you will regret it,"

"My king!?" Ser Barristan protested but was silenced with a simple glare.

"I…. you!" The messenger froze with shock as stared at me with wide eyes, dropping the knife I gave him to the ground.

"So does anyone wants to try?" I chuckled.

"You bastard!" One of the Braavosi guards couldn't take it anymore and dashed with his blade towards me.

"Ah," I turned to him, "A volunteer," With that I dashed forward, kicking him on the neck with enough strength to shattering his neck, killing him in one shot.

"I will fight you," Another guard said, he was old but looked experienced, "If I win, will your troops go back?"

"They will," I smiled eyeing the still frighting messenger who was just silent, like a mute.

The man grabbed a big sword and started to swing at me, quite slow, it was as if dodging someone trying to punch me underwater, with me not being underwater, after a while, this sad attempt started to get boring "For God's sake stop, this is stupid even by your Braavosi standards, and as we've seen this week, that threshold is vast,"

"Is this just a game to you!" The old soldier growled, angry, holding his massive sword tight.

I smiled, "A game? Hardly. If this were a game I would be having fun, or killing Joffrey, now that sounds like a good time,"

"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" The old soldier rushed at me, giving his last battle cry, that lasted for a few seconds before his decapitated head landed with a heavy thud on the floor.

"Now, that was depressing," I chuckled, eying the messenger.

The messenger composed himself a bit, and said with the utmost confidence, "If you value your lives over your complete annihilation, you must turn back now, while our great lord is forgiving!"

I sighed, wondering where did he get all that bravado, he just saw me effortlessly kill two of his guards, "Before continue to shit through your mouth Braavosi, know that I am in a really bad mood today, so even a Lord's messenger, you will be held accountable for the words coming out of your mouth, is that clear?"

"Leave, and submit to the Sealord, and all will be forgiven," The messenger said, ignoring my threat, just how stupid can someone be?

Submission, he wanted me! To submit, how fucking dare he, "If you dont submit, he will kill you and everyone you love,"

"Weaponizing my family, I see, and who's going to swing the sword?" I inquired angry, "Your Sealord?" That was laughable, "You?" Not in a million years, as I talk I continue to move towards the man, and his guards sword out.

"This…. You can't kill the messenger!" The messenger said ordering his men to attack, but those were soon intercepted by my own guard, who were dealing with them quite easily.

"I told you," I whispered close to his ear, "Next time, learn to listen," with that I pushed my blade through his heart, as I stared deep into his eyes, seeing his life slowly drain out of him, panic, fear, anger, were just a few of the emotions I was able to read on his face before he the sweet release of death came for him.

"Kill everyone but one," I ordered my men, after all, I wanted someone to deliver the message that peace was never an option, they threw that to the trash when they helped my enemies.

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[Oberyn Martell POV]

The beautiful, but really scary Queen, had ordered me and my army to go and help Ronard, apparently, he is fighting with Braavos.

I didn't bring many men, but she said that I had to prove my loyalty by being there for my King, the things I do for revenge, the things I do for love.

I finally had the chance to avenge Elia, my own sweet little sun that was taken from us, by those wretched lions, and if the price to get the revenge Dorne has been waiting was to kneel for a new King, we would do it.

I didn't care who sat on the throne, all I knew is that I didn't want it, too much work, my only desire was to kill Tywin and his men.

"Let's go men, we are going dancing to Braavos," I ordered, not really sure if any of my men understood my clever word play, about Braavos water dancing.

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[Daario Naharis POV]

The young bear had changed his schedule completely, and here we were with a contract of defending a city he might not even attack anytime soon

But I suppose getting paid for doing nothing was also acceptable, but one thing was absolutely true, I still had no idea how we would win, when all we had was five hundred soldiers.

I'm not really sure what the masters of Yunkai expect… Because unless we each kill two hundred of his army without dying, this was a suicide.

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[Tywin Lannister POV]

Dorne had pledged their loyalty to the young bear in Essos, that alongside the north gave the bear around eighty thousand soldiers.

That alone was very troubling, but to trust was just the beginning, the boy had also managed in Essos to acquire an army of one hundred thousand soldiers, which would bring his army to one hundred and eighty thousand soldiers.

And while the young bear continued to grow and grow, our resources, our men, and everything we needed for this war was benign depleted, slowly but surely, every day we were weaker, and because of that we would pay.

If only we could get the Tyrells to join us, we would have a better chance at winning this.

"Renly needs to die," with Renly dead, we would be able to marry Margaery to Joffrey, and in the process we would even the numbers out, because so far, the boy was ahead of us, then again he doesn't have to deal with the idiocy of my children, and the mad rat for a grandchild I had, Joffrey.