(AN. For those that have not read the books, you need a little more info to understand. Euron 'Crow's Eye' Greyjoy is The single most dangerous character in the entire series. Iron King, King of the Isles and The North, King of Salt and Rock, Son of the Sea Wind, Lord Reaper of Pyke, and, Captain of the Silence. He is a Greyjoy, who has the black magic powers of a Warlock. He is Cunning, Evil, Greedy, Well learned(for them), and, Utterly Ruthless. He is brother to Balon, and exiled from the Iron Ilse for raping his brother's wife. He can curb-stomp the Mountain.)

“Did you see the red color of the deck on that ship?” Varo asked. I looked at him, and nodded.

“That ship is famous. Black sails, red deck. Thats the Silence. No one has ever outrun or fought off that ship.” He continued with a sad expression.

I already knew that.

“The Crow's Eye is known to enslave crews that surrender. If you fight, you might die quickly. His ship is crewed by mutes. They say he ripped all their tongues out himself. Thats a fate far worse than death.” I replied and stared at the captain, as I tried to remember what else I could of Euron from the books.

I remember that he captured some warlocks and tortured them into teaching him the secrets to their magic. I remember that he raided the Reach, successfully. Last I remember, he possessed the Dragon-Horn.

The horn was used to control dragons.

Euron could be in many places at once. He could move instantaneously from one place to another. There is no fighting and winning against that kind of power.

“Better to die fighting than live as a tongueless slave to a madman.” I said, resolute. I expected Varo to agree. Instead, he looked at me as if I was a three year old.

“Better to be alive then dead.” He said.

I scoffed at him, and walked back down to my cabin in silence.

I pulled the jar of the wine of courage out. I looked at it for a moment, thinking, and began to drink. I drank until I couldn't feel anything. My vision, started to dim. I couldn't feel a thing. I then drank more. My hearing dulled and my taste of the foul liquid disappeared. I drank until the jar was empty.

“Raise sails. Drop anchor!” I heard the captain's orders on deck.

I would have fought to the death beside them.

I tossed the empty jar over my shoulder into the cabin's door. It shattered with a crash. I looked at the small cask sitting atop my under-clothes. I uncorked it too and began to drink. I couldn't feel nausea, if I had any. This was actual preserved dragon's blood. It was highly poisonous ingested, and should quicken the end.

I unlaced my armor and lied on the bed for the first time without armor on.

I wish I had thought of this before I drank all that wine of courage. Would have felt nice to relax one last time.

The glowing green fluid was drained from the cask in seconds. I had felt nothing, still. I relaxed back on the bed and wondered how long the will take to kill me.

A burning feeling started in my chest. I ignored it, and continued to stare at the ceiling.

It will all be over soon. This nightmare of years.

Why had I not done this sooner?

Crow's Eye somehow maintained the loyalty of his ship's tongueless crew. If my tongue was cut out, I would do my best to kill the fuck that did it. The fact that he was surrounded by them gave me the conclusion that they must be mind controlled some-how. I will not let that happen to me.

I don't want to face involuntary slavery of myself. Kill me, not cut out my tongue and mind control me.

The burning spread and intensified. I tried to ignore it and failed. I know the dose I had taken of the Wine of Courage was fatal. It was way beyond the allowed amount for even the highest tolerances to the potion.

I groaned as the pain became worse. It was too sharp to ignore. My entire body felt like it was submerged in a deep fryer. I had never felt like this before. My eyes rolled back into my head.

Maybe drinking four years worth of blood of the dragon, was a bad idea.

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The pain suddenly became too intense to breath. I felt the final moment last for eternity.

Then darkness.

666 666 666

It was bright here. Shining with warm light originating from everywhere. Brighter than the sun, but, without the pain of brightness. The light radiated warm heat. It felt...

Comforting and safe.

My pain was gone. I felt my body more clearly than I had in years. I looked down and almost cried. I was wearing what I had been when I went to bed, four years ago.

Darth Vader boxer shorts and a white wife-beater shirt.

I felt tears begin to gather in the corners of my eyes as I saw my old body was once more inhabited by me. I reached out a shaking hand to caress the weapons tattooed across my chest. The five point star with a crown and an apple on one shoulder. The square and compasses with a dated banner tattooed on the other. My skin was once again a mocha color.

I couldn't feel any sadness as tears trickled down my cheeks. These were tears of happiness. I was home in the truest sense of the word. I looked in front of me and to the sides. As far as the eyes could see, there was nothing, but white.

The sound of someone clearing their throat behind me.

I whirled around. Before my stood... Tyrek? I beheld a naked giant. At least eight feet of ripped muscle and unmarred skin. The face... So cold.

“Where am I?” I asked the larger version of the body I had grown used to.

No reply.

His leg blurred out. An atomic bomb went off between my legs.

His right hand grabbed my gasping throat and lifted me off the ground. I felt a rhino charge horn first into my chest. I felt my ribcage shatter like toothpicks.

The hand on my throat choked off my bloody gurgle of agony. A jab knocked my front teeth into my mouth. The white floor rose up to give me a big wet kiss.

“Don't do it again.” I heard.

Do what?

A sledge-hammer shattered my legs.

A wrecking ball slammed into my spine.

The wet smacking sounds faded away.

I don't know if he kept hitting me.

I was gone.

Gone to that place where time and pain no longer exist.

Oblivion.

666 666 666

The feeling of flying through the air.

The wet stinging of water up my nose.

A rocking sensation.

The feel of sand digging in between my ass cheeks..

My eyes jerked open, though I wished they hadn't. The bright sun painfully blinded me. I shut them back tightly, and groaned in pain. The entire front of my naked body was sun burned. My entire body felt painfully cramped. Every movement set off painful spasms.

Heat stroke, dehydration.

I felt a wave of ocean water roll over me. It went over my face. I started coughing in salt water salt water. As I lay, drowning in six inches of water, I wondered how I ended up here. An eternity later, I felt the water recede once more back into the ocean. I tried to sit up, but found myself too weak.

I rolled over onto my stomach, eyes still shut. As I felt another breaking wave lap my feet, I held my breath. I took advantage of the shallow water to painfully shimmy my body, higher up on the beach. As the water receded past my body once more, I gathered the strength to crawl.

I continued to use every ounce of my will-power to force myself forward, inch by agonizing inch. My hands encountered something slimy and cold. I squinted my eyes open a crack, wary of the light.

Recoiling, I jerked painfully away.

Below me lay the body of Varo, half eaten by sea life and rotting. His skin a sick and swollen, purplish-green. One eye a milky white and the other an empty socket. His face forever burned into my mind, twisted in a death-smile.

A show moved over the sand.

I turned my head to see...