A Song of Fairies
Part 1: A Game of Thrones
Levy
Levy dipped her hands into the basin of cold water before quickly splashing over her face. The sleep in her eyes immediately disappeared as the water rushed down her gaunt face, dripping from her chin back down into the small copper basin. She ran a small hand through her blue locks then stared into a dull mirror that rested against the stone wall of her small room in the Greyjoy castle. They were starting to get long. Her hair used to sit just above her shoulders. Now those blue locks were falling over her shoulders and over her eyebrows. It had just occurred to her now that in all the months she had been stuck in this world, whether she was aboard the Silence or here on Pyke, she had not exactly been able to properly groom herself.
Although, a proper grooming for her would be a nice soak in her bath back in Fairy Hills. She would have it filled with bubbles, a book in one hand, the soap in the other. It would be warm. The distant sounds of Magnolia's nightlife filling her little bathroom. Perhaps she would hear one of the other girls in the rooms around her. Most likely it would've been Erza. She was always the loudest. All of her armors clanking and creaking as she rearranged, polished, then stored them yet again. But Levy never minded the noise.
She would give anything to hear the metallic squeaking of Erza's armor being cleaned. It would have given her a sense of normalcy at least. Maybe wake her up from whatever nightmare she had been living the past few months.
True, her conditions had improved. Yara was a hard woman, that much was a certainty. But she cared. And there was difference between the young daughter of Balon Greyjoy and her mad uncle. Yara would gladly spit in your face, punch you in the gut, step on a man's balls if needed in order to keep order on her ship. But once she did that, she would make sure you were tended to. She personally drilled her crew. Dined with them every night, despite the fact that she could eat at Balon Greyjoy's table and enjoy the finest food the Iron Islands had to offer (which wasn't much in Levy's opinion). No, she ate with her crew, laughed with them, drank with them. Yara Greyjoy wasn't just their captain, she was their comrade. Levy got the distinct sense that the Captain of the Black Wind would gladly die for one of her crew members, no matter how green they were.
And Levy was the greenest of the bunch. She had only joined the crew several days ago. But she hadn't met any of the crew yet. In the words of Barrock, Yara's first mate, they were enjoying and well deserved round of shore leave. In the words of Yara herself, they were fucking every salt wife and wench in sight for the week.
She could still hardly comprehend it. This was a city, no, a civilization of pirates and brigands. It's hierarchy consisted of rapers, pillagers, and murderers. Yet this place actually functioned. Levy was dumbfounded every time she thought about it. Back in Fiore, places like this would have been found and brought to a heel by a battalion of Rune Knights, or perhaps another legal guild. But here in Westeros, this was life. This was normal. And as much at it intrigued and appalled the bluenette, she would have to get used to it. For now she had no clue how she ended up here, let alone how to get back to Fiore. Levy knew she would be stuck here for a bit. So she had to do her best to adapt and hopefully overcome.
She tore her gaze away from the foggy mirror and reached over to a small coat hanger where a ratty, brown leather coat hung. She quickly slipped it over her bony shoulders. She winced a little as it passed over the many scars that lined her back. Those would never fully heal. Levy then took a deep breath, bent over, and slipped on a pair of old boots given to her by Yara.
They were a little too big for her. Her heel almost always slipped out of the boot every time she raised her foot. But they would have to do. Better these than to be barefoot on this rocky island.
I might be able to make my own shoes if I had my magic. Levy thought to herself. She frowned as she tightened the laces on the boots, A lot of things would be easier if I had my magic.
A short series of knocks rang out from her door. Levy jumped to her feet and strode over to the door. Just as she reached the doorknob, the door swung inward, nearly knocking Levy on her ass. Levy cried out as she stumbled backwards.
"Rise and shine, Levy!" Yara barked as she barged in.
Levy took a second to catch her breath, "Did you have to do that?"
Yara scowled at her, "You questioning your captain?"
Levy bit her lip, "No, ma'am."
"No what?"
"No captain!" Levy barked.
Yara nodded. A small smirk crossed her chapped lips, "That's what I thought." Levy noticed Yara was carrying a small burlap sack. The Captain glanced down at it before tossing it at the bluenette, "Pack yourself some clothes. We set sail in an hour."
Levy blinked, "Wait… what?"
"Don't question me." Yara hissed, "We set sail in an hour. Be at the ship by then. If your not, my father may give you to some small cocked fucker so you can be a salt wife."
Yara strode out of the room. As she walked away, Levy rushed over to her doorway and stared at her from down the hall.
S-saltwife? Levy thought. She blinked. She was about to sail on the Black Wind. But that meant-
"But I haven't even met the crew!" She exclaimed.
"You're about to." Yara replied. She never broke stride as she disappeared around a corner.
Levy gulped. Her hands gripped the small sack tightly. She closed her eyes and took several quick breaths.
It's ok, Levy. She reminded herself, It's going to be ok. It's just a boat. It's not like-
She saw it again. The black sails. The mute men staring at her, their eyes filled with hate. His smiling eye gleaming at her. His face filled with malice. She could feel her hands trembling. Before she could fall further down that nightmarish pit, she smacked herself across the cheek.
"Focus, Levy." She scolded herself. Levy took a deep breath then began packing what little clothes she had. Once she finished packing, she put out the small candle that lit her dreary room.
She rushed out of the castle down to the docks. As she dashed through the little village of Pyke, she passed by several downtrodden fishermen hauling their catch up from the docks. It had rained last night, so the work was already dreary and dull for the men of Pyke. Levy could feel her own light footfalls sinking several inches into the mud. She couldn't imagine how far the men's feet sank when they were carrying barrels, crates, carts, and nets.
Thankfully, she didn't have to stay in the soaked streets for long. Once she was on the dock, her muddy boots had a chance to dry off on the soppy wooden planks. Levy shifted the sack on her shoulder and gulped.
In front of her was a row a reaving ships. Each ship had its own name carved into it's hull. Reavers and sailors were hauling gear, weapons, and slinging ropes up onto the decks. Several of them paused and gave Levy a confused glance. Others looked at Levy with dangerous intent. She hastily broke eye contact with those men and began to scramble towards the Black Wind. In the background she could hear those dangerous men laughing at her.
The Black Wind was an impressive vessel, especially for a reaving ship. She had a pair of large square sails which allowed her to be faster than almost any other ship when the wind was with her. Two dozen holes dotted the sides of the ship, a dozen on each side. Each hole was designed for a large oar to protrude out, slip into the water, and power the might vessel through the ocean. There was a small, cabin like structure on the upper deck. Levy recalled that was Yara's cabin.
As she got closer, she began to see the crew of the Black Wind. They were all hard at work. Several men used ropes to pull large crates and barrels onto the ship. Each container was loaded with provisions. Salted meat, dry biscuits, and maybe a few apples if they were lucky. It was almost like those books Levy read. The ones about buccaneers and swashbucklers on the high seas of Earthland.
Unlike those books though, none of these pirates were particularly dashing. Certainly none of them would be considered handsome in Fiore. Many bore scars, and scruffy beards that needed to be trimmed. Their faces were already covered in dirt and grime. Their hands were rough, blistered, and calloused from years of living on the sea. These weren't the romanticized pirated Levy had read about in hundreds of books. These were real pirates. Hard men who took what they wanted and gave nothing in return. Men who were unforgiving and brutal when they wanted to be.
As she approached, the men of the Black Wind stopped and stared at her. Some were slack jawed, dumbfounded that a woman was joining their crew. Others eyes here with interest. Some were merely curious, other gave her looks that made Levy's spine crawl.
"What is she doing here?" She could hear some of them whisper.
"Blue hair? The fuck is a bitch doing with blue hair here?"
"I'd fuck her." She heard another mutter as she walked by.
"I'd join you."
"THERE'LL BE NO FUCKING OF FELLOW CREW ON MY SHIP!" Yara Greyjoys powerful voice belted out over the ship, "Not unless I give ya lot permission." She then pointed at Levy as she made her way up the gangway, "That little girl right there is our new greeny." She nodded over at a young boy who looked barely fourteen years old, "Congratulations, no more beatings for you."
The crew laughed at the boy's expense. Yara then clapped her hands. The laughter stopped. Every crewman's attention was on their captain.
"Listen up!" She barked, her hands rested on her hips, "Now I understand, our last voyage was rather disappointing." Levy heard some of the crewman reply quiet 'ayes' and curses. "But frankly, I had no idea that the Storm God himself was so damn fearful of us gaining riches beyond our wildest imaginations that he had to send the biggest fucking storm I'd ever seen to deter us!"
Levy heard some of the crew chuckle and clap. Despite gaining nothing from their last voyage, they still listened to their Captain. Levy couldn't help but wonder just how Yara Greyjoy was able to earn such respect from such fearsome men.
"So, as my version of an apology-"
"You'll say sorry?" A crewman in the back called.
"Fuck you!" Yara shouted back, causing the men to laugh loudly. "As I was saying, as my version of an apology, I gave you fucking lot a little shore leave." She nodded as some of the crew cheered, "So, I hope your balls are empty and your bellies are full. Cause we will be reaving come sunrise tomorrow!"
Levy jumped as a loud roar erupted from the crew.
"You lot will be taking a risk with me. For we are going to reave a nice little prize. One that if you survive, well, you'll be rich." Yara grinned at her crew, "We have been given the opportunity to raid the Westerlands!"
Surprised murmurs and excited conversation broke out among the crew.
"You know what that means!?" Yara continued, "It means gold!"
"AYE!" The crew cried.
"And lots of it!" Yara continued, "So get ready to pay the Iron Price. If you do, you'll be rich!"
The entire crew cheered loudly. And Levy could feel herself feeling invigorated by Yara's speech despite the loud profanity around her.
"Finish hauling up our provisions." Yara ordered, "First rowers will take the oars when we cast off. And get ready for some fun. Now back to it, you lot!"
"Aye captain!" The crew called back in unison.
Yara was about to turn back to Barrock when she stopped, "Oh and one more thing you shits!"
The crew paused yet again.
"If you find a bucket filled with Tywin Lannister's shit, congratulations, you would become the richest man in Westeros!"
The crewmen laughed loudly before returning to their duties. Meanwhile, Levy could only raise an eyebrow.
Huh? She wondered.
"Tywin Lannister shits gold." A feminine voice said to her right.
Levy glanced over to the see the hairless face of Qarl the Maid standing beside her. He was one of the few crew men that she had interacted with while she recovered on Pyke. That was mostly due to the fact that he seemingly visited Yara every night. And Levy knew why. But she kept her opinions to herself.
"What do you mean by that?" Levy asked.
"Lord Tywin Lannister is the richest man in Westeros." Qarl explained, "He's the Warden of the West, and Lord of Casterly Rock. Basically, he's a one powerful son of a bitch. And we are going to steal from him."
Levy gulped, "Fun." She replied sarcastically.
"Oh it will be!" Qarl grinned, not picking up on Levy's sarcasm.
"Hey!" Yara barked at both Qarl and Levy, causing the bluenette to jump and Qarl to sigh.
"Shit." Qarl mumbled.
Yara strutted up to the pair, "Just what are you two doing?"
"Uh-uh-" Levy stammered.
"Just showing the green girl the ropes, Captain." Qarl replied.
Yara arched an eyebrow, "I would say that's bullshit, but at this point, you'd laugh at that comment." Qarl smirked at her, "So instead, since you like Miss Levy so much, you get to row with her today."
Qarl's smirk ran away from his face. Meanwhile, Levy's eyes widened.
"R-row?" Levy asked.
Yara nodded, "Aye. Row." Her rough right hand reached out and snatched Levy's arm. Levy winced as Yara squeezed it tightly. "You've got no meat on your bones. You need muscles for reaving. Rowing is the best way to get that."
"Bullshit." Qarl coughed.
Yara glared at the man and Qarl quietly began to whistle to himself.
"Every green reaver starts of rowing, Miss Levy." Yara explained, "You're not special just because you don't have a cock between your legs. Even I started off rowing when I first sailed the seas. So you best get used to back breaking days, and sleepless nights. You're aboard my ship now. And every reaver must pull their own weight." She looked over at Qarl, "And you, you fucker, you will not only row with Miss Levy, but you will assist her in acclimating to the crew."
Qarl scratched the back of his head, "What exactly does acclimating mean, captain?"
Yara snarled, "Stay by her side so the men don't fuck her. And make sure she learns to take care of herself." Levy's eyes widened with fear, "That is what acclimate means, Qarl."
Qarl smirked, "Aye captain."
Yara nodded, turned on her heel, then marched to her cabin. Once she disappeared inside, Qarl began to chuckle.
"What's so funny?" Levy asked fearfully.
"She puts on a great show." Qarl replied, "Then at night, when I'm on top of her, she screams like a virgin!"
Levy felt her cheeks suddenly heat up. Qarl laughed some more.
"Come on, Miss Levy. Help me haul the last of these crates. Then you and I get to row us out of this godsforsaken island."
Levy nodded then followed Qarl towards the men pulling the supplies aboard the ship. Up near the wheel of the ship, Barrock watched the two. He watched as Levy struggled to pull up even a single barrel from the docks. Her hands were constantly losing their grip on the cords and ropes that were used to pull the cargo aboard. He watched as the girl gasped for air and sweated gallons in the humid morning air. The old reaver could only click his tongue.
She better toughen up. He thought to himself, Or she'll be dead by tomorrow.
And chapter! This is a storyline that I am very excited to write! It's an offshoot of the main story for sure. A side adventure in a way. My own alteration to GOT canon. And it's going to be a fun one! Levy and Yara's friendship is something that I can't wait to piece together fully. I hope it comes together well for you guys. Anyways, let me know what you all think. As always, I hope you all enjoyed! Have a nice day!