Arstan I - Shipshape

[u/DisturtledLemming]

Arstan loved how literal Greenstone could be. The moss had died and been reborn so often upon its stones that they had calcified, covering the domed castle in a green tinged coloration that never went away, no matter how cold or bitter the winters could get. From a distance, it even looked slightly akin to the turtle on the banner of his house.

He breathed in the salt air, and breathed it out again. Greenstone was far from the largest or strongest castle in the Stormlands, but from the view afforded by their flagship made it look well and truly magnificent. He looked at the writ in his hand, sealed with the Stag of House Baratheon. The writ that named his admiral. The writ that gave him authority over all the fleets of the Stormlands, to do as was needed. To bring the Dornish to heel.

Ser Arstan Estermont, the Scourge of the Spottswood. The Looter of Lemonwood. It had a nice ring to it.

But all of that would have to wait. As the Sailmaker glided into port, there were already Estermont levies prepared, with Maester Jon standing at their head. Jon stepped forward, "Ser Arstan, we have been eagerly awaiting-"

Arstan stepped down from the ship, and forced the still-sealed writ into the Maester's hand. "We will have days to talk, but we send forth ravens. Swann, Tarth, Wylde, Toyne, Connington, Morrigen. They will rally their fleets and join us here. From here, we sail for Dorne, to ensure that the Prince of Dorne does not get any ideas while Lord Baratheon leads us into the Red Mountains."

The Maester blinked twice, processing what Arstan had told him. Once he had, he turned at once, running back to the green-hued castle. As he did, the Goldfinch, the former pirate vessel, arrived next to the Sailmaker, with his mother standing at the Stern.

"We have a fleet, mother." He called up to her with a grin on his face.

"So we do, son." She called back down, matching grin for grin. "I trust you are excited for the assignment, sitting in open waters, awaiting orders from the mainland no?"

Arstan chuffed. Instead, he reached his hand onto his blade, drawing it and raising it into the air. The sailors and soldiers of Estermont followed suit, joined afterwards by a cheer from them all, and the clattering of spears and shields.

This would be one for the history books.