Chapter 21: Jeyne XI: 306 AC

"William of Whiteharbor?" The man at the door bore the sickle of Harlow across his doublet and upon recognizing it, he is of Theon's kin.

"He is not in. May I take a message, ser?"

"No, I must speak with him. I will wait."

"You will wait outside," Jeyne replied, eyes narrowed. He is not here for William, Jeyne thought, this is for Theon.

Surreptitiously, Jeyne stared sidelong out the window at the man. Don't bloody wait in the front of our damn house with that doublet. She was about to say as much when she saw Theon and the man exchange words, and–

Theon flung open the door, dragging the man inside and throwing him against the wall. He removed the small knife he kept up his sleeve and pressed it to the man's neck as a thin trickle of blood stained his black tunic. "Who are you and what do you want?"

"I am Zadock of House Harlaw. I come on behalf of Asha Greyjoy, Queen of the Iron Isles." He fumbled in his pocket and removed a rolled piece of parchment, sealed with the kraken of House Greyjoy.

So she does sit the seastone chair, Jeyne thought, watching as Theon snatched it out of the man's hand, breaking the seal and unrolling it. Good. A woman like her deserves no less.

Theon let out a long breath, looking up to Zadock, "Leave."

The man did not need to be told twice and was gone within a moment. Jeyne had learned it was best for Theon to share things of personal worth in his own time, and not to ask him of it. But Theon held the parchment out for Jeyne to inspect.

Dearest Brother,

I bring dark news. Our mother has passed and now feasts with the Drowned God below the waves. After many attempts at bringing an heir into the world, I've failed. The maesters say that I am barren, and will never bear children. You must produce an heir, else the lordship will be given to a cousin. Base-born or legitimate, I beg of you to produce a child. If you do, I invite you to Pyke, guaranteeing you and your Lady wife safety, as well as any children you produce. I wish you well, little brother, and count on you to do what is needed of you.

Asha Greyjoy, ruling Queen of the Iron Isles

"I'm so sorry. I know how much it meant to you. To see her again. I–"

"It doesn't matter anymore," she heard the air of false apathy, "she's gone and there's nothing I can do." Tone swinging drastically, he said "I had the chance. I had the chance to see her once more all those years ago. Before I left for Winterfell. But I didn't. I didn't care."

"Everyone has their regrets, Theon. You're no different from anyone."

He let out a small laugh that sounded more like a sob, "I hardly knew her. Yet she loved me."

She pulled him into her chest, stroking his hair. "That's what mothers do. Love their children unconditionally." She gripped him tight, as if trying to squeeze all the sadness out of him.

––––––––––––––

They broke fast in silence the next morning. She knew what he was thinking. The part of the letter they hadn't even acknowledged. An heir. He looked up at her and met her eyes over the brim of her mug. "Sweet Jeyne...there's something we need to address."

She paused in her chewing, swallowing hard and dabbing her lips with a napkin. "She needs an heir." Jeyne wanted to grin as wide as she ever had in her entire life, to smile as big as–

Theon took a deep breath, "She already has one. Barnibus. A young cousin of ours. The Greyjoy blood runs thin in him." He stood and faced the hearth, turning his back to her. "I just...what if he's cruel or mad? What if Asha dies today and the Lordship is passed to a bellicose child? What if he brings back the old ways?"

"What do you feel about this? Your unbiased opinion, please." He took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

"I would love noting more than a miniature version of you to dote on."

Theon scoffed and gave a small laugh, turning back to the fire.

"Though I think you're correct in worrying about any distant cousins. You know nothing of them, if they will be a peaceful Lord or one that will lead another failed rebellion that will cost the lives of thousands."

"At the risk of sounding self-serving, I think you should try. At least you know your child will be raised to be a kind and strong leader, and we can teach him all we know." She took his hand and stepped in front of him. His eyes are like tar. He pushed a few strands of loose hair from her face.

"As you wish."