Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Game of Thrones or A Song of Ice and Fire. Thank you for all of your reviews! This chapter follows Asha and the Iron Islands. I'm hoping there will be more of the Greyjoys in Season Six. That would be exciting. And yes, I know she is called Yara in the show, but I like Asha much better. Also, I'm really loving the relationships between the Greyjoys. So much drama.

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Asha

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Aeron Damphair, the youngest of old Balon Greyjoy's many sons had spread the word from Pyke to Harlaw, from Old Wyk to the SaltCliffe, calling all the Iron Islands to a Kingsmoot, after Balon died and Euron Crow's Eye, his second youngest brother, had sailed into Pyke and sat the Seastone Chair.

Asha Greyjoy, Captain of the Black Wind, and Balon Greyjoy's only daughter, had sailed back from Deepwood Motte, which she had taken at the start of the war, hoping to claim her father's throne as well. But Euron Greyjoy, banished from the Iron Isle for many years, had appeared from nowhere like an autumn storm, and beaten her.

And now Aeron Damphair, the uncle who served the Drowned God, had called a Kingsmoot.

Asha knew why he did it, but it still hurt. She had been hoping that this uncle, at least, would support her. She stood on the walls of Harlaw, the castle of her mother's family, and stared out at the restless, churning sea. She ached to be back on a ship, the deck rolling beneath her feet, the snap of the sails in the wind, and the call of the sailors as they shouted at one another from the rigging.

Everything was simpler on the deck of ship; she knew exactly who she was there. And her crew would follow her to the edge of the world and back. But on land she was merely Balon's daughter, the only child he'd had left instead of the three sons he'd lost; two to death and one to brainwashing by the Starks of Winterfell.

Asha felt the salt spray on her lips, the wind whipping her hair, and prayed to the drowned god that her last brother, Theon was dead. She had heard nothing from him since Winterfell had been taken and burned by the Boltons. According to the rumors and reports, the Bastard of Bolton had burned the ancient castle down and killed every Ironborn and northern man within its walls, sending the women and children to the Dreadfort.

But Theon wasn't just a man; he was a Greyjoy of Pyke.

Asha thought that Roose Bolton would have presented Theon as a bargaining chip already if he had still had him alive, but that did not mean she trusted her brother was dead. Ramsay Snow, who had been legitimized by the king in King's Landing as a reward for the Bolton betrayal of House Stark, had a terrible reputation. There were stories of what he had done to the Stark girl, his bride, before she had mysteriously vanished during Stannis Baratheon's attack on Winterfell.

Asha knew that the northern lords were unsure of where Sansa Stark had gone; there were some who said she had been spirited away by Stannis Baratheon to marry his heir, Edric Storm, now Baratheon, in the Stormlands. Others said that she had returned to the Vale of Arryn and her young cousin, Robert, and would one day become Lady of the Eyrie. Still others said that she had fled to Castle Black, the Home of the Night's Watch, and her last remaining brother, Lord Commander Jon Snow, whom men called the Black Bastard of the Wall.

If Asha was a gambling woman, she would put money on the last one. The way south was perilous and blocked by Bolton men and their supporters. Stannis Baratheon was defeated, his army decimated, and most of the survivors, including the erstwhile king, had signed up with the Night's Watch to avoid the certain death from the Lannister queen that awaited them if they tried to go home.

And the girl was of House Stark, which was the North. The Starks had ruled there for thousands of years, before even the Greyjoys had landed on the Iron Islands. Asha had heard the thralls in Deepwood Motte whisper that the land knew the Starks, and would only ever be ruled by one.

Besides, Jon Snow was Sansa's home, and everyone wanted to go home eventually. Asha knew that better than most, even if her home was the sea and the sharp, salt air.

She also knew that there would be no home here for her if either of her Uncles sat the Seastone Chair. They would marry her off by force to some petty lord before she had time to do more than make a token protest, and take away all of her ships and men. She would be chattel, a brood mare, to mother this little lord's sons, and they would make very sure that no allies surrounded her.

She would not end her days like that, of that one thing she was certain. She would die like she had lived, with an axe in one hand and a dirk in the other, and the great salt sea around her.

But what's more, Asha wanted that throne, that great ugly chair that was only ever claimed by the strongest. She wanted to be Queen. She had earned it; she had spent her life earning it. She had forged her own way, and now her Uncles sought to take what was hers away. It was she who had paid the iron price for every step she had taken, not they.

Her mother's brother, Rodrik Harlaw, came up onto the wall beside her. "I bring bad news," he said, his craggy face strained and weary. "Victarion has also claimed the Seastone Chair."

"Of course he has." Asha was not really surprised; her Uncles all hated and feared one another. All the Iron Islands knew the Euron had taken Victarion's wife by force on their wedding night. Her uncle had been honor-bound to kill his defiled wife, and Balon had been forced to banish Euron from the Iron Islands ever since. Asha did not know why Aeron Damphair, the Uncle who had drowned and been returned by the sea god, should hate Euron enough to call a Kingsmoot when the Crow's Eye claimed the Seastone Chair, but it had been a clever move to avoid Civil War. Victarion was Balon's eldest brother, and Asha his only child. Both had better claims than the crazed, violent Euron Crow's Eye, and both would press their claim at the edge of an axe when it came down to it.

But Civil War was the last thing the Iron Islands needed at the moment.

Her uncle stood at her side, mulling over the prospects before them. "You're fight is hopeless," Rodrik Harlaw told her.

"No fight is hopeless until it has been fought," Asha told him. "I have the best claim; I am the child of Balon's body. His blood flows through my veins, and he named me his heir."

She did not tell him that things were worse than he knew. Traders from Old Town had reported that the Hightowers were amassing a great fleet there, for what purpose she did not know, and Cersei Lannister was slowly rebuilding the fleet down at King's Landing. Although the lords of the Iron Islands could boast of one hundred ships each, the Lannisters could pay for much more, and the Hightowers were southerners, and therefore inherently devious.

She wondered if her uncles knew of this, and what they planned to do about it if they became king. It was one of the things that she was resolved to bring up at the Kingsmoot. The Iron Islands could not afford to fight both the North and the South. They would have to ally with one or the other to survive, and Asha was damned if she would see her proud people forced to bow and scrape before those haughty Lannisters.

"If it is put to a vote," her uncle continued, "the lords of the Iron Islands will not follow you. You, Asha, for all your courage and your strength are a woman, and the Iron Islands will not bow to a woman."

"I would not have the Iron Islands bow to anyone," Asha snapped. "I do not ask that they serve, I merely ask that they follow. My father sought to make the Iron Islands great again, after centuries where we became a small, and mean, people. I would do the same as well. We are reavers, Uncle, or have you forgotten. We reap but do not sow. Those are our words."

"My sister, your aunt Gwynesse, thinks as you do; that she has the better claim to Harlaw because she is the eldest. But where is she now, Asha? Does she rule? Each captain has a vote at the kingsmoot, you know this! But how many will follow you? Victarion rules the fleet, and although a hard man, he is brave and strong and his men follow him gladly. And Euron? Your uncle Euron is crazy enough to saw people to follow him with naught but his crazy promises alone. They say he sailed into Pyke the day after Balon fell from the walls. Men whisper that Balon was punished by the Drowned God for his weakness in holding his daughter in such high-esteem; for seeking to promote her to the Seastone chair. Men say that the Drowned God shows his favor to Euron Crow's Eye instead."

Asha snorted. "Superstitious nonsense. You are too well-read to believe such twaddle, Uncle."

Rodrik Harlaw was infamous in the Iron Islands for his love of books. He employed three Maesters to care for his extensive libraries when it was unheard of for almost any lord in the Iron Islands to even had one. He was known among his fellow lords as "The Reader," but it was not a mark of esteem. Among the Ironborn it was considered faintly suspect for a man to spend more time than he had to among books and scrolls and words. Those were soft pursuits, for soft men, and the Iron Islands valued only strength.

"Superstitious nonsense it may very well be, Asha, but men believe such tales when the storms come. The winter winds are rising, and this one promises to be a very cold and dark one. The Maesters warn that all the realm is indanger; the wars have brought too much death and destruction, and there are not enough crops to last us even two years. And with the Ironmen still at war with the south and the north, what hope do we have? Even the crops you have brought in from Deepwood Motte and Dagmar Cleftjaw has shipped to use from Torrhen's Square will not be enough should the winter prove long. We will starve, and the realm will starve as well. Already the snows fall on Winterfell, I'm told."

"They fall on Deepwood Motte as well," Asha agreed. "Bear Island, just to the north of the place, across the bay, has been hit with two serious storms already. I sent some sorties out, but the Mormont girl's advisors have the place well protected."

Asha was actually quite impressed with the defenses Bear Island had in place. Ruled by House Mormont for centuries, the current lord was actually a lady, Maege Mormont, sister of the former Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Old Bear Jeor Mormont, and the mother of five daughters. Asha had heard that the eldest, Dacey Mormont, had been one of Robb Stark's protectors, and died with him in the Red Wedding. The next three daughters were with their mother, stuck somewhere south of the neck.

Maege Mormont and the Greatjon had been sent by Robb Stark towards the eastern and northern parts of the Riverlands, before he had left Riverrun for the Twins and his death. Greatjon Umber had been captured by the Freys in the months following the slaughter of the northern army, but Maege Mormont and a large part of the Umber and Mormont forces had escaped. And vanished.

And little Lyanna Mormont, Mage's ten year old daughter, defended Bear Island. Asha had heard the letter she sent back to Stannis Baratheon, when he had demanded the fealty of the northern houses.

"If all the Mormonts are as fierce as ten-year-old Lyanna," she told her uncle, now, there is no way to take Bear Island unless we send Victarion and most of the fleet. The Bear Islanders are too used to our raiders."

He nodded, still looking troubled. "How many of your captains will vote for you, do you think?" He asked after a while.

Asha turned and gave him a stern look. "All of them, uncle. They would follow me anywhere, and I do not doubt their loyalty. It is the rest that we have to be concerned about."

Asha and the captains and lords which followed House Harlaw set off for the kingsmoot three days later. The going was fast and hard for Rodrik Harlaw kept horses in his stables and did not disdain them as many other Ironborn did. His captains may not have been any more comfortable on them than Asha's were, but they all rode, and rode well.

The kingsmoot was located on Nagga's Hill on the island of Old Wyk, and it had been ancient and fallen out of use long before Aegon the Conqueror had burned Harren the Black and his sons in the Riverlands, and taken away all the green lands from the Ironborn.

If every captain was a king, then he received a vote and was entitled to nominate himself as king. In the old days, when the Ironborn had been strong and feared, there had been two kings; a rock king who ruled the land, and a salt king who ruled the seas. Often from the same house, and like as not father and son. Eventually there was only one, the High King of the Iron Islands, in honor of the Grey King.

The Grey King was whom all the noble lords among the Iron Born claimed descent from; a great ruler from the Age of Heroes who had sat the Seastone Chair and reigned over the Ironborn for a thousand years. He'd taken a mermaid to wife, the legends ran, so that his descendants could like on sea as well as land, and had slain the great sea wyrm, Nagga, whose bones were turned by the Drowned God into the stony rocks which made up the Iron Islands.

Many of the captains had assembled by the time Asha and the Harlaw men pounded into the ancient round standing stones that capped the top of the hill. The day was strangely muggy, and a fog clung to Nagga's Hill, wreathing the place in mist and what looked like thick, grey soup.

"Asha!" roared Victarion Greyjoy, who sat just outside the circle around a fire pit, surrounded by his captains and feasting on salted cod and roasted pine nuts, goats milk and the dark bread that was famous among the Ironborn. Asha privately thought that it tasted like sawdust. "My captains were just taking wagers on whether or not you would turn up." Victarion Greyjoy was a loud, stern, unimaginative man, broad-shoulder, armored, and with his long black hair pulled back from his forehead, showing innumerable scars earned over a lifetime of leading King Balon's fleet. "Most of them tried to tell me that you knew your place, and women had no place in a kingsmoot. But I know my niece."

Asha jumped off her horse, cloak flaring out behind her and showing the boiled-leathers and chainmail underneath. "Uncle," she said, striding over and throwing her arms around him. Victarion, stern and humorless though he was, briefly embraced her back.

"I am sorry for your father's death," he told her, bluntly but sincerely.

"He died as he always wanted," she returned. "He died a king, with the Iron Islands taking back what was stolen from us."

"Ay, that's true," came the emotionless voice of another uncle, Aeron Damphair. The priest in his threadbare black robes and his long, black beard streaked with white, was still handsome, but had turned hard in his middle age. Asha did not throw her arms around this uncle, but she did go over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Father would have been proud of you, uncle," she told him, aware of how much Aeron had looked up to his eldest brother, and yearned for his approval.

Aeron Damphair gave her a flinty-eyed stare. "Don't think to butter me up, girl," he said, harshly. "You may be as un-woman-like a female as I ever saw, and Balon's seed besides, but a woman has no place on the Seastone Chair. She has not the strength. Her strength is for the birthing room, not the war chamber."

Asha felt her ire flare at this tired old platitude, wondering how many men could ever go through birthing a child. From what she had seen of men, they tended to brood and moan over every wound, making sure that no one ever forgot their bravery. Asha had never heard a single woman demand such accolade over the blood and pain and death that birthing a child brought in these harsh lands.

"I sought merely to comfort you, Uncle, and share our grief for Father's passing. And at this gathering I am a captain of my ship, as all know me to be, and therefore am entitled to a vote the same as any other. I am a captain and prince of House Greyjoy here, and not Asha. You would do well to remember that."

Asha and the Harlaw men set up camp next to Victarion, and Asha made the rounds. Most of the captains already gathered owe allegiance to none, but were raiders and fishermen as the sea called them to be.

Asha greeted most by name, asking after their wives and saltwives, their children and bastards, the fortunes of the waves, and the well-being of their ships.

They answered her fairly, but most were cool and wary, assessing, darting glances between her and Victarion and Aeron. Victarion did not make these rounds. He had once told Asha that he saw no need to know the private lives of his men, as long as they fought for him and kept their honor and pride, what they did in their spare time was none of his concern.

And it was true that all men there knew of Victarion Greyjoy, but Asha held out hope that that did not mean they trusted him to be king.

Aeron Damphair had called the kingsmoot five days after Balon Greyjoy's death, but the captains and lord only began to arrive a fortnight later. It had taken Asha herself two and a half weeks to move herself and her men back to the Islands, leaving only a small garrison at Deepwood Motte. The Boltons were still re-grouping from Stannis Baratheon's attack on Winterfell, and the news was that Roose Bolton was preparing to march on the Night's Watch at one of their castles along the wall.

No one knew why, as far as Asha could tell, or at least, no one was telling her, but she was confident that Bolton would not be marching on her own acquisitions in the green lands of the North any time soon.

Dagmar Cleftjaw arrived two days after Asha, from Torrhen Square. He roared with delight when he saw her, and clapped her heartily on the back. "Little Queen, your father lived and died a good life. I only wish his sons had not died before him. Or his wife, your lady mother."

Dagmar Cleftjaw was a fearsome old raider, who had followed Theon all the way to Winterfell, fought his way clear of the Bastard of Bolton when he had captured the place, and gone on to take Torrhen Square far to the south of Deepwood Motte. He had imprisoned Lady Tallhart and her younger children, and this had enabled the Ironborn to claim all of the land westwards, which bordered the sea.

"Any news of my brother," Asha asked him. Torrhen Square had been the seat of one of Robb Stark's bannerman, and was much greater and larger than Deepwood Motte. And closer to Winterfell besides.

"Nothing, I'm afraid. Although there was tell of a Reek, one of the Bolton bastard's creations, who escaped with the Stark girl."

"I heard that the mountain clans are gathering," said another captain whom Asha did not know. They were preparing to march on Winterfell to rescue this Sansa Stark, but Stannis Baratheon got there first and the Stark woman vanished. There are rumors that Lord Snow sent Stannis Baratheon west to treat with them."

"The Night's Watch takes no part in the wars of the Seven Kingdoms," Asha reminded him, but even she knew that the Night's Watch were fearsome foes when the Ironborn raided the Shadow Tower or the lands of the Gift. If Roose Bolton planned to march on the Night's Watch surely Jon Snow would have to do something, and the men of that Order did not have the strength needed to fight the Lord Paramount of the North. They would need help, and the only ones close enough to do so were the mountain clans.

Asha had heard that these northmen were more Wildling than the soft men of the green lands whom the Ironborn so despised. They owed allegiance to no one but the Stark in Winterfell, and had pointedly refused to send Roose Bolton a single man when he had called the banners in order to fight the Ironborn.

But would they fight under Stannis Baratheon for Lord Commander Jon Snow? He was old Ned Stark's son after all, despite being a bastard and a Black Brother. And would the rest of the northern lords, who had sent men at Bolton's call, fight against the Northern clans against the Night's Watch if commanded?

Asha did not know, but she did know that whoever won, either the Boltons or the Night's Watch, the moment for the Ironborn to strike was now. They needed to elect a new king and soon, otherwise the time to strike would be lost and they would lose their advantage.

Euron Crow's Eye was the last of the lords and captains to arrive. He sailed into Old Wyk a fortnight later, when everyone was starting to get annoyed. His convoy of ships, thick-hulled with snapping black sails sporting the Kracken of House Greyjoy, blew a great blast on their war horns as they rounded the bend. Euron himself stood on the prow of his own vessel, the Silence. Asha had heard that it was crewed entirely by men who had had their tongues ripped out by Euron himself.

He vaulted off the deck, landing with a splash in the spray pounding the shore. His captains – those men who had followed him into exile – followed him.

He took the winding steps carved into the very rock of Nagga's Hill three at a time, coming up on the crest of hill without losing his breath. Spreading his arms wide he took in the silent, assembled multitude staring at him with expressions varying from bemusement to shock to fear. "So nice of you all to wait just for me," he declared.

And the kingsmoot dissolved into shouting.

Euron Crow's Eye was a many taller than either of his brothers, with a black patch over one eye from where he'd lost it in some skirmish or other. His face was fair and unshaven, his long black hair pulled back, half up and half down, and a restless energy to him, like a fire that burned too bright. He spotted his brothers standing shoulder to shoulder across the stone circle and strode over to them.

"Brothers," he cried, jovially, opening his arms wide. Neither made any move to return the greeting.

Victarion stood with his arms folded, his armor gleaming in the rays of the setting sun, and a forbidding scowl across his dark face. Aeron Damphair stood with his hands in the deep sleeves of his robes, and his face was frozen as he stared at this long-lost older brother. Asha, watching her uncles, thought she saw a spasm of something that looked very like fear cross Aeron's face.

"No love still, I see, even after all these years," Euron said, mock sadly, in a sing-song voice that reminded Asha of the arrogant young man Theon had returned to Pyke as; as if the whole world was his by rights.

She stared at this stranger levelly as he now turned to face her. Surprise showed in his face. "Not little Asha?" He walked over to her and would have drawn her into his arms but Asha dropped one hand onto her axe and glared.

The smile that spread across his thin lips then was not a pleasant one. "You've turned into a beauty, Asha, but you're still a little cunt, I see."

Asha's smile was no friendlier and she made sure to show her teeth. "That may be, uncle, but I would show a bit more respect towards one who may be your Queen soon."

Euron's laughter was loud and long and mocking. "The day a woman sits the Seastone chair is the day the Iron Islands deserves to fall and be made slaves to lesser men," he declared, before moving off to direct his men in unloading what they had brought.

The Kingsmoot started as the last light of the sun left the evening sky. Great fires were raised around the circle's edge as the captains and lords gathered together to hear who would be king. Three other men put themselves forward to be king. The first was Lord Gylbert Farwynd, whose dreams of sailing across the Sunset Sea were met with derision as being the follies of an old man. The second was Erik Ironmaker, who was so fat that he had to be carried in on a litter by four of his strongest sons. When Asha demanded that he stand on his own two feet before his assembled brothers, the fat man could not, and his claim was met with gales of laughter. Lord Dunstan Drumm droned on and one about his qualifications and bored the kingsmoot half to tears, losing him any support he had come in with.

Then Victarion Greyjoy stood up. Broad-shoulder, fierce and craggy-faced, he looked like a sea lord of old. "You all know me," he growled. "I am Balon's eldest brother. I have led his fleet, fought his wars, and defended his people. I have paid the iron price and followed the Old Ways. I am the only man fit to be king. I will lead us to victory against both north and south, and the Ironborn will be feared and honored once more." His champions, Red Ralf, Ralf the Limper, and Nute the Barber, dumped gold dragons, silver stags, and brightly shinning jewels before those assembled. "This is what you will receive if you follow me." Then he turned and pointed at his niece and then his brother. "But nothing will you receive if you follow her, and death is all you will receive if you follow Euron Crow's Eye."

Cheers followed this, and Victarion looked both pleased and as if he would say more, but he never got the chance.

Euron stood up and began to speak. "I respectfully disagree, brother. Follow me and I will give you the Seven Kingdoms." He stood before them, still and calm, but it was the stillness of a snake and it entranced his viewers. "I have travelled far in my exile and seen wonders that no one here could even dream of. I have fought monsters and slain demons. I have studied the fire magic of the east, and stolen from the horse-lords of the great plains. My ship has sailed to the Summer Isles and reaped from the lesser men of these weak lands. I have brought back many things and if you follow me –"

Asha stood up, tall in the flickering light of the fires. "Foolish nonsense," she snapped, shouting and drowning out Euron Crow's Eye. He stopped speaking but gazed at her in malicious amusement.

Asha paid him no mind. She paced back and forth before the assembled captains and lords, her lean wiry frame filled with an energy that held their attention as much as Victarion's booming voice, or Euron's unnatural stillness.

"Peace, land, and victory! That is what you shall receive if you follow me." Her champions, Qarl the Maid, Tristifer Botley, and her cousin, Ser Harras Harlaw, dumped out stones and dirt, leaves and potatoes, corn and turnipis. The Ironborn were silent as they studied these unusual gifts. "I'll give you Sea Dragon Point and the Stony Shore, black earth and tall trees and stones enough for every younger son to build a hall. We'll have the northmen too…..as friends, to stand with us against the Iron Throne. Your choice is simple. Crown me, for peace and victory. Or crown my uncles, for more war and more defeat, or to follow more delusions of grandeur. What will you have, ironmen?"

The cheers that this resulted in were huge, and surprising. Asha saw her uncle Harlaw start in surprise, and her uncle Victarion's face grow dark. His supporters yelled defiance in outraged tones, and for a moment it looked like blood was about to be spilled between the two groups on Nagga's Hill itself when a low, throbbing, powerful blast of a horn halted them. The horn was so deep and so loud that it made Asha's ears vibrate. She clapped her hands over them and drew them back in shock to see blood.

Euron Greyjoy pulled back an ancient, black horn from his lips, but not until the very last vibrations had faded out over the sea did he speak. His thing lips were cocked in a half-smile and his eye glinted in cold triumph. "This," he announced, "is the dragon horn. It was what I was going to show you before I was interrupted by a woman. You all have seen the great comet in the sky, and heard the tales of what it means, but only I know its true purpose. Long ago ancient men woke dragons from beneath mountains of fire and bound them to their will with magic. The dragons are believed to be gone, is what we have been told, but I tell you that this is a lie! And the comet tells me so. This horn will bind any dragon to my will, and I know where we can find three of them. Crown me as your king and I will bring you these dragons, and all of Westeros will be ours!"

There was complete silence for a moment, and then a swell of noise roared up from the very stones of the kingsmoot. Euron Crow's Eye was declared king by an overwhelming majority, for all had felt the power of the dragon horn, and all had seen the treasures he had brought back, and all had felt the utter conviction in his tone; the conviction of madness, but only the three remaining Greyjoys seemed to realize that.

Afterwards Asha realized that she had never really stood a chance; not against dreams of dragons.

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What did you think? Next chapter will go to Theon, back to the Wall, and back to the North, and Jon and Sansa. There will be more of Asha coming soon, and the Greyjoys will be tied in with what's going on in the North just like they were in the books.