Theon
"A few hours to the southwest…" Theon muttered as their dinghy got free of yet another current. "It has been a day and a night. Perhaps he meant in terms of their ability to travel over…under open water." Red Flea replied. They'd left the island relieved and lighthearted but rain, sea winds and the wretched currents took them in circles adding hours to the voyage. The greyhair thrashed whenever someone approached him so they got to leaving him in the bow. "Who is he?" the Unsullied pointed to the man. "Some daft old salt who went overboard and waited a bit too long for someone to take him off the man-fishes' hands." Theon said, shrugging. Only when a shadow passed over the boat did Theon look up to consider the sky. The black dragon circled above, red eyes fixed on them. He could not see the dragon queen. "Uh…" he said uncertainly. "He knows not to torch us, right?" The Dothraki seemed to sense Theon's apprehension, bellowing out in some savage war cry that made his ears ring. Immediately the dragon answered with an earsplitting scream. The gagged man stared in wide-eyed shock at the beast as it circled lower, still shrieking. No free passage you big bastard, Theon thought. They were afloat for the moment but if the dragon tried to land on the dinghy it would sink immediately. Sails broke the horizon next. One of the slaver ships we made off with, he remembered. The dragon held position over them, circling in tight loops as he heard a greeting shouted across the water. Red Flea responded in kind. The larger ship caught them with no trouble, steadily lowering a rope down the side. When he hauled himself up, Theon saw the majority of the crew was Essosi. Fuck, he thought. He didn't know a word of the argot they garbled at each other, much less Valyrian. One of the lot wearing better garb than a deckhand's stained rags stepped forward. "I am Zhaffar Toliz of Her Grace's freedmen. Welcome aboard Setting Sun." "Theon Greyjoy of the Iron Islands." Theon replied. Red Flea said something in Valyrian Theon assumed ot be an introduction. Nobody on the ship spoke Dothraki so the rider just tapped his chest. "Malakko." he grunted. He slung the old man onto the deck. "Oh, and this old crab." Theon added. He pulled the gag from their guest's mouth. "Water." he croaked. Toliz readily filled a cup and poured it down the man's throat as Theon cut away the bindings. Our little jaunt ought have taken the fire out of him, he reasoned. His reasoning was somewhat undercut when the man's knee knocked the wind from his chest and his elbow drove into Theon's cheek, and he'd taken a beating worthy of his older brothers before Malakko and Red Flea pulled him off, Toliz having gone pale. "Good sailor!" He cried in dismay while Theon blinked the stars from his eyes and spat blood on the deck. "There's no need for such enmity!" "Bugger off, Essosi. This spineless squid deserved that and more." "Agreed." Theon muttered, getting up unsteadily. Had Ramsay let me keep more teeth this tough old fucker would have knocked them loose. "Who are you and what did I do?" The man spat on the kraken sewn on his jerkin. "Everyone calls me Blackfish, and you killed two of my grandnephews. Three if you count deserting Robb."
Oh, Theon thought. "Well, you're no bloody northman, so that puts you on Lady Catelyn's side. As for the Stark lads, they escaped one day and that was the last I saw of them. The bodies hung from the wall were Winter Town urchins, no more." he said, rubbing his jaw. "That was years ago, mind. No telling if they're still drawing breath. Those are two corpses you can lay at someone else's bloody door, I've enough to reckon with as is." he added. Toliz looked from one man to the other uneasily, shouting for the crew to take them back to Dragonstone with all speed. Malakko was grinning from ear to ear, garbling away in his own tongue, but it was obvious he found the sight of Theon getting beaten senseless amusing. "Yes, very funny. Old men and broken men trading blows." Theon muttered. "What blows were traded? This one saw Black Fish give you many gifts yet you gave none in return." Red Flea said. "Bugger it." Theon replied, turning back to the…fish. "I'm not sure what Blackfish means, so if you could kindly spit out your real name I might be able to help you." The old man took a moment to gather himself. "Ser Brynden Tully of Riverrun." he spat. "Well met. I'm sure you'll be very popular among the Dothraki. They think old men who can still break a nose with one blow are very amusing. As it happens the dragon queen has begun the task of taking back the Seven Kingdoms for House Targaryen. I'm sure no one wants to see the Boltons hold Winter fell a moment longer than necessary, so in the likely event Ramsay offends Daenerys somehow the North will need a new lord. Obviously your niece's sons are ideal but as nobody's seen them in years it will be likely that Sansa is Robb's rightful heir. The last I saw of her she was heading for the Wall, to her bastard half-brother Jon Snow." he rattled off. Tully took a few winded breaths. This fish is not so hard to catch after all. He tires quickly, Theon saw. "If you saw her you would know her for Catelyn Stark's daughter immediately." Toliz silently handed Tully a wineskin, prompting him to give the Essosi a surprised look before drinking. Free wine is not so common in Westeros, aye. "So you want me to help your queen win her wars in return for seeing my grandniece restored to what is hers." he said finally. "Even if you die in the wars to come, Daenerys is not the sort to renege on such a promise." Theon replied. "I'll make that determination for my bloody self, Greyjoy. Get me to this queen of yours and we'll see." he said, giving the sky another look. Imagine, Theon thought. Anger enough to forget a fucking dragon flying overhead.
"As fortunate as it was for us to pluck you from the waters, our momentary stop as well as towing the dinghy will delay our arrival until nightfall, my friends. Therefore I will show you to cabins so that you may rest beforehand." Toliz said when silence had fallen between the Westerosi. Before the captain could object, Red Flea and Malakko took one cabin for themselves. Appreciate it, lads, Theon thought sullenly, stuck with Tully for the rest of the voyage. "Speaking of fish…" he said suddenly. "I was ready to die defending Riverrun from a Lannister-Frey force. Before the fuckers could give me a proper case of sword-through-bowels those croakers cracked me on the head and I woke up in one of their sea-cells. That one twat with the burned look, he never told me more than that I'd be their guest until it was prudent to let me out. Tossed me a few seared trout every day and that was all I saw of them. All I saw of anyone until you lot decided to pull me out of there." he said. "I'll have to find out what happened to my cheese brained nephew as well, I suppose. Edmure Tully, rightful Lord of Riverrun and may the Freys choke on trout bones their first feast there." "Boltons and Freys make queer bedfellows." Theon said. "None queerer. But even they were only catspaws of Tywin Lannister. Neither Walder Frey nor Roose Bolton would have dared to pull the Red Wedding without his say-so. Now he's dead, his puppets dance on blindly. Unable to stand without their strings being pulled, let alone ruling the riverlands or the North." "Keeping Ramsay on a short leash is a job all its own. I can't see the northern lords supporting his father long with Ramsay tearing their lands up. Should Sansa resurface, they'd flock to her just to be rid of the flayed man." The shrieks have stopped. The dragon's moved on, Theon realized. Tully seemed to notice what he was listening for as well. "Fucking dragons." he grunted. "She has three. A fleet reinforced with Asha's half of the longships, Dothraki screamers, Unsullied soldiers, countless Essosi freedmen, and three fucking dragons. It's only a matter of time before she takes the Iron Throne, and even how much time it takes is wholly up to her." Theon told him.
Theon was woken by a chorus of shouting voices on deck. "Fucking shit, what now?" he heard Tully groan. "Go shut them up." Theon dutifully went topside, looking around and yawning. The sailors were pointing and arguing at something on the fuzzy shore of Dragonstone. Theon had to blink the drowsiness out of his eyes to make sure he was seeing right. The surf glittered with reflected starlight, gold and silver flecks luring them forward sure as a pretty maid. "That was fast." Theon said, surprised. The rowboat was lowered and they pressed on to the beach. Regardless of his origin every man stared into the water at the feathers that glinted below, more than one man forgetting to row at the king's ransom that begged to be scooped up. Only when they landed and the reek of fish did Theon's elation vanish. He took Toliz' arm. "Easy. My guess is they're not fond of fire but a mob of fearful sailors would surely make it worse." he said quietly. "What's not f-" Toliz gave an ungodly shriek when the shape of several man-fishes and the burned man who'd given him the dice loomed out of the night, standing between them and the steps up to Dragonstone. Theon could hear the alarm raised above, the man-fishes croaking to each other, eyes on the stairs. "You're late." the man said. "Currents are fickle cunts." Theon replied. Boots coming down the stairs made the creatures shrink away from the landing, croak-muttering apprehensively. Red Flea called out in Valyrian, another Unsullied up the stairs answering in a terse voice. "He asks why there was an outcry." he whispered to Theon. "Tell him it's alright, to come down slow and easy." Red Flea relayed his words and the queen's soldiers began pooling at the bottom of the stair, looking at the man-fishes and little else. The burned man pointed to shore. "We'll toss more into the surf every night, the waves will carry it to shore. What happens to it after that is for your kind." he said. "I know the whelps will have the time of their lives scooping it all up." Theon replied. "Allow me to express thanks on behalf of Daenerys Targaryen and indeed, the world above the waves, to you and to your lady." "She does not require the thanks of an air-breather, only the returning to the sea of what belongs to it." the man said, moving toward the freedmen who hastily parted. His fishy companions followed at once, croaking to each other in what might have been amusement.
Theon took Red Flea, Malakko and Tully with him up to the castle, thighs aching when he finally reached the great doors. That staircase has to be some long-dead dragonlord's idea of a joke. Welcome to Dragonstone. Oh, can't fly? See you in two days, Theon thought grumpily. Only the Unsullied didn't seem winded from the climb. I wonder what the Damphair will say when we turn up with a horse of the croaking things in tow and let them drag the Seastone Chair off. Hard to take the drowned priests at their word when there are man-fishes and mermaids who would laugh them out of their sunken hall, he reflected. He supposed Asha would either be abed or making eyes at the dragon queen in the map room, so in he went. He stared out into the night, out onto the roiling Narrow Sea. How many mornings will see the hoard renewed, he wondered. He remembered the words of the mermaid with the pink tail, the one on the rock. And if they have?, she said. I'll bet there's enough and more to simply buy the Iron Throne out from under Cersei. The thought of so much plunder simply rolling out of the surf into their laps made Theon grin. Grin as he had when he saw Ros pull her dress off for the first time. Fuck it, he thought. The women across the Narrow Sea were as wanton as could be, some even with jewels through their nipples or navels. Mayhaps I find a knife just as good as the one I lost, better even, wrought in tireless gold or silver. The thought made him laugh. He leaned against the wall then, breathless with mirth, laughing as he had with Robb when they watched Jon's moping face wince as his hair was cut. The sound echoed off the stone until it sounded as if a dozen Theon Greyjoys were all laughing together at a joke only they knew. When he turned he beheld the dragon queen garbed in a silk robe, a sight any man would have gone breathless at. Theon was no different, yet he was winded from laughter, not lust. The world is one big joke, the people in it clueless dupes, and I the only one to see, he thought, walking toward her. Even you. A life spent chasing a lump of ass-polished iron. "Your Grace, a few more weeks and we can put your perky ass on a pile of treasure taller even than the Iron Throne." he said, laughter renewed at the look on her face as he staggered from the hall.
Suddenly none of it much bothered Theon Greyjoy. Euron, Ramsay, the dragon queen, they're all just crabs in a bucket and I the crabber. He hadn't felt so alive since he left Robb's tent to go treat with Lord Balon. Thinking on his father too made him chuckle, shaking his head. You took a crown so Euron could take it from you. What the fuck did you know? There was a knocking on the door of the unfurnished bedroom he found himself in. "Lord Greyjoy, Her Grace wishes to see you." An Unsullied called from the other side of the wood. I wonder why? Theon thought, taking a moment for the laughter to die down. Someone could run me through and I'd laugh in their face. Once he could stop his lips from curling he went back into the map room, finding Daenerys Targaryen surrounded by two dozen of her toy soldiers. "Where have you been?" she asked. Theon heard the irritation in her voice. She must not want to offen Asha or I'd probably be dead already, Theon reasoned. "Pardon me, Your Grace, I've just had a trying few days. I leapt off your ship after a mermaid, you see. Wound up in a cave with a few of your more loyal men, did a bit of haggling with a fishwife and filled your coffers full and more. In the morning perhaps you can set the Essosi urchins to combing the beaches, there will be more to find than pretty rocks." he said, sitting in a chair near where the Iron Islands would be had the Painted Table included them. "Also, I don't think we'll see much of my uncle going forward. The Ironborn are the greatest sailors in Westeros, but that doesn't matter put against spears on the sea bottom, footmen that breathe water." he said, looking from the seat the queen occupied, the raised one near Dragonstone, to the coast to the northeast of the island. The queen frowned, mystified. "Ask Malakko. Ask Red Flea. Man-fishes, croaking scaled things that walk on two legs and carry spears. Mermaids, women with fish tails instead of legs and the best breasts I've ever seen. One among them told me they wanted the Seastone Chair returned to the sea. I told them fine, then asked if they could toss up whatever booty lies on the bottom of the Narrow Sea. They agreed." he shrugged. Her face then would have been a thing to laugh at all its own, but Theon thought better of it.
"Where is Asha? Sampling some poor chambermaid?" Theon asked, looking around as if she was hiding in the room with them. "Lady Asha has gone on to Sunspear to ferry representatives from Dorne and the Reach back to Dragonstone. "How do you know they're there?" Theon asked uncertainly. "How many from each kingdom?" Daenerys' cheeks turned pink. "Prince Oberyn Martell's paramour and natural daughters and Olenna Tyrell." Theon's eyebrow went up at her response. "So a few women bending the knee to you makes Drone and the Reach yours?" he asked. "Were I you I'd come up with something better when the lords proper ask you why they should follow you. If this Tyrell had the loyalty of the Reach, for one, she'd be in Highgarden, not languishing in Dorne." His objections only made the queen's cheeks go from pink to red. "So what? Not like they're going to go for Cersei when you're clearly the better option. Do what you did with Asha in Meereen and you'll be fine." Daenerys stared at him. "Well, with less flirting and letting them stare at your chest." he amended. "Probably don't even need to do it from dragonback, just stroll up to them, say fuck the Lannisters and you'll have nine of every ten lords on principle. At least below the Neck." The color in the queen's cheeks receded and her eyes widened a bit. "Not above, though." she said finally. Theon shrugged. "I've no idea what's going on up there. Speaking of, though, I found you a Tully of Riverrun who might be of service in regard to the North." She uttered a command in Valyrian and Tully was brought in wearing fresh garb looking his typical sunny self. On seeing the queen his eyes widened warily. "Welcome, Lord Tully." she said courteously as ever. "By rights my nephew is the lord. Edmure. A captive of the Lannisters somewhere, likely the Rock." he said in reply. "I'm just a knight who's long outlived anyone worth serving." For some reason the queen's eyes got a bit misty, Theon saw. "If Greyjoy tells it right we may run into my niece's daughter, who happens to be the last Stark of Winterfell. Give my nephew Riverrun and my grandniece Winterfell and I'll take you wherever you want to go, your Grace." he said, getting to one knee.