Game of Thrones: Renly, the sorcerer king

As they were talking, the house's maester stormed into the room, "milord! Milord! The greyjoy's have rebelled against the throne! The raven just came in, they have burned the fleet at lannisport in the dead of night"

Renly stood up. He hadn't expected this for another few months at least. Shouldn't the rebellion start in 289? It was still 288, princess Myrcella had just been born a few weeks ago. Was this because of him changing things? If so, what exactly had caused this shift? Was it his trip to Valyria? He just couldn't see the connection but then again, what did they say about a butterfly's wingbeat? One tiny shift could change everything.

"Lord Tarth, I need to send ravens, to rally my bannermen", Renly implored the lord.

They left the room, leaving behind the teenage Brienne and the many suitors. On his way to lord Tarth's solar, Renly took his seal from his things. They wrote letters to each and every bannerman under him, rallying them up to fight against the ironborn. They were to meet at Tarth, because that was where he was right now.

It took a month for all his bannermen to arrive at Evenfall hall and another few weeks for the royal fleet to sail past, on its way to the iron islands. Renly was summoned to Robert's ship. The tension was palpable as he walked past the soldiers on the ship and towards the captain's quarters. Opening the door, Renly saw Robert in all his glory, with long, black hair and amethyst eyes, donning a battle armor, his trusty warhammer by his side, he was drinking, "Renly, I see you have already gathered everyone… good, good. You can take the ships back though. It takes too long to sail to the iron islands. Someone has to protect the coastline, which is where you come in. You will take your troops and march west, where you will reinforce the Lannisters. It will take a month and a half for you to get there but two to three for us to get there. I want you to crush all the ironborn that come to raid and pillage. Fuck them and their iron price"

"I- yes, your grace, I will do as you bid", he was a bit disheartened, he had wanted to kill Balon Greyjoy himself but that seemed out of the question… Well, if it weren't for his wildshape… he could get there and kill the bastard still.

"Good. Before you start marching though, show me this sword of yours, stormbringer, eh? A good name", Robert motioned for him to step closer, which he did, presenting stormbringer, "it is true… a valyrian steel blade… good, good, sharp as a razor and light too. I haven't actually held one of these before… Ned never let me swing around Ice…"

He swung the sword at a nearby chair and split it clean in half, "it is just as in the legends…"

Later, they began their march towards the westerlands, Renly at the forefront. It was a long and pretty boring travel, no bandits were stupid enough to attack a marching army. They passed through the reach and into the westerlands without trouble. When they arrived at a small town in the westerlands, the common folk were ecstatic.

"Oh, did the king send you to protect us? The Lannister men are spread far to thin and many of us have been taken by the iron cunts", the city's elder told one of the soldiers.

Renly, overhearing that, got an idea. He wanted to be well liked, that was why he opened the food kitchens, that and because it was the right thing to do. He could curry favor with the westerlanders if he played his cards right. So, he walked up to the man and smiled brightly, "Yes, we have heard of your blight is over, we will kill every last one of them, isn't that right, guys?"

"yes! For the crown!"

"Lord Cole, you will take a third of our army and protect the region north of here, Lord Gower, you will take a third of our force and protect everything south of here. Lord Caron, you will take a sixth of our forces and go support the Lannisters. The remaining sixth of our forces will stay with me, here. This will be our point of operation"

Over the next few weeks, there wasn't a day where a raven didn't arrive, telling of a reaping which was stopped by his forces. The moral amongst the common folk was high. Soon, the greyjoys were dumb enough to attack the small village they were having their base in. When the horns sang of their arrival, Renly was amongst the first to arrive. They had made their base behind some hills, to hide that they were there, which was why the reaving iron born cunts were more than a little surprised when from behind the hills came hundreds of armed soldiers. They tried to flee onto their ships but Renly shot fire bolts at the sails, making them unable to sail away. As they saw their escape route burn, they turned to fight, aiming for an honorable death. Renly was in the front, an iron born with an ax jumped at him, his weapon high over his head. Renly intercepted the strike with stormbringer, with his free hand casting a lightning bolt, which fried both the reaper and around five others behind him.

"Shit, it's the sorcerer lord!", one of the reavers shouted.

"Let me take care of him", spoke one man, Euron Greyjoy, "What is dead may never die!"

"What is dead may never die!" The presence of their captain emboldened the reavers, who kept fighting. They were outnumbered and their numbers were quickly thinning as well. Euron squared up to fight him, man on man. Euron took a wide swing at him, relying on brute force. Renly stepped back a few feet, dodging the attack before retaliating with an over head swing, which he blocked, followed by a kick to the stomach.

"We do not sow!", he screamed as he kept hacking at him, no refinement in his moves. They were animalistic, unpredictable. Renly got cut a few times but none of the injuries was particularly deep, so he kept on slashing at him. He might have gotten a few scratches but Euron looked a lot worse, his armor was dented, his arms full of cuts and he was running out of steam and fast. With one final strike, he impaled the man through the throat, killing him. Looking around, he saw that the rest of the fighting had already stopped, with Renly's men silently watching him. He raised his sword arm into the air and screamed, "Our's is the fury!"

They erupted into cheers, "Our's is the fury!"