Written and Directed by: Full-Paragon
Music and Production by: The Grand Cogitator
This episode is dedicated to my favorite musical, the Pirates of Penzance. I watch it orphan. As in frequently.
Chapter 14: HMS Ironborn the Musical
Laughing, Theon Greyjoy strode through one of the seedier parts of King's Landing near the River Gate docks. He was with a group of other young noblemen from the court, having fallen right in with their carousing. Indeed, at this very moment they were making their way down to one of the many brothels located near the docks, though they were headed for one of the finer establishments instead of one of the dockside places frequented by sailors.
While Theon felt a bit guilty due to the disapproving looks he'd received from Lord Stark, it wasn't enough to prevent him from continuing his lecherous ways. He still ensured he did his duties, of which he had more than a few as Ward of the Hand of the King, but once his work was done, why not enjoy life a little?
While his companions were all nobly born, Theon enjoyed a place of prestige in the group both due to his connection to the Hand and from being a Greyjoy; eldest son and heir of Pyke and the Iron Islands. True, Theon hadn't set foot on his home islands in nine years since he was a boy of ten, but he still thought of himself as Ironborn. Besides, he was good with a sword, and excellent with a bow, and being a warrior was the first part of being Ironborn in Theon's mind.
"Ladies, I have come once more to bless you with my presence!" Theon called, striding into the brothel. He had been frequenting the establishment for some weeks now, and had his favorites, and flattered himself that they enjoyed his affections as much as his coin.
This day, however, a new girl caught his eye. She was tall, with short black hair that was bleached blonde at the tips, and a full figure. She was dressed oddly, in tight fitting breeches and a loose white shirt. The novelty of her appearance intrigued Theon, and he grinned, walking over to her. "What's this, a pretty face I've not seen before, nor blessed with my affections? We'll have to rectify this."
Slowly, the woman turned to Theon, having been talking to the Madam of the Brothel, a thin, tight lipped woman who nevertheless seemed to have the best selection of girls at the docks. "That is a crude thing to say, sir. Who, exactly, are you, to address me as such?"
"Why, I'm Theon Greyjoy, the Kraken of the North!" Theon quipped, making his companions laugh. "Who might you be? Someone looking for me to bless with my purse and cock?'
The woman turned to Madam Gretty, who seemed to be fighting back laughter. "This is him?"
"Aye, that's m'lord Greyjoy," Madam Gretty agreed, giving Theon a gap toothed grin.
"He thinks rather highly of himself, doesn't he?" the woman said cooly, then turned back to Theon, frowning. "How disappointing. It seems you're more the Stark then the Greyjoy now."
That remark made Theon bristle as his companions chuckled behind him. "My blood is salt and iron, girl. Careful with that tongue, or I shall cut it out instead of letting you use it as a whore should."
"I'd like to see you try," the girl said, and pulled a dirk from the small of her back. She made a "come on" gesture to Theon, standing with one arm behind her back, her dirk raised in a duelist's stance.
Snarling, Theon tugged his sword from its scabbard. "I won't kill you, girl, but I'll make you regret this."
"We shall see. Have at thee," the girl said, and lunged. Theon countered, but soon found himself on the back foot, pressed hard by the girl despite her weapons' short reach. She was tall, nearly as tall as he, and had long legs and arms. She also seemed to move faster than the eye could see, and despite fighting as hard as he could, Theon couldn't keep her off of him.
Soon, Theon found himself pressed out the door and into the alleyway, his sword ringing fast and hard against the dirk, which seemed to be everywhere and ever closer to his flesh. Then, Theon slipped in a puddle of mud, and though he did not fall, his footing was unsteady for a moment. The next thing he knew, his hand stung and his sword was on the ground, the dirk pressed up against his throat.
"I would have thought Eddard Stark would have at least taught you proper manners and discipline, Theon. Instead, you are nothing but a perverted layabout who spends his days whoring and dicing. Our father would be most disappointed to find his son had become nothing but a worthless NEET."
For a moment, Theon gaped silently, then managed a weak, "Claire?"
His sister sighed and stepped back, making the dirk vanish again. "I had high hopes that you would have more iron in your spine, Theon. Instead, I find a man who wastes his days fawning at the heels of Starks and Lannisters."
"I am no dog of the greenlanders," Theon snapped. "I am Ironborn as much as you! I've been left to rot for nine years, with no kith nor kin save the Starks! If I value them and their company, well, it's because they value me!"
"Do they? Are you so fond of Eddard Stark, the man who killed our brothers?" Claire demanded.
"Our father killed our brothers with his senseless pride," Theon snapped, forcing himself to stand straight and tell, despite his anger. "Lord Stark killed neither Rodrik nor Maron. Besides, Rodrik was a drunk, and Maron was a liar and a bully. In comparison, I've known naught but kindness from Robb, who treats me as well as his own siblings."
In private, Theon often dreamed of marrying Yunyun, though she was six years his junior, and becoming Lord Stark's son in truth. A part of him was ashamed of that, especially now, but the other half of him longed for the approval of the man who had been his father in more ways than Balon Greyjoy ever had.
Claire studied Theon's face, then, to his surprise, she smiled. "So you do have iron in your spine. That is good. You also seem to have an understanding of duty, even if it is misplaced."
"You are not...that is, you understand?" Theon asked his older sister, feeling baffled. He hadn't seen Claire since he'd left for Winterfell almost a decade ago, and she'd been a gangly girl of fourteen then.
"I have my own differences with our father. His loyalties are...misplaced, as are yours," Claire said coldly. Then she sighed. "But, you are my brother. I suppose it is understandable we have drifted apart over the years and distance."
"I...suppose it is," Theon said, feeling unsure of what to do next.
"Well, come on then," Claire said, slapping Theon on the back. "I cannot truly blame you for enjoying the same pleasures I do." With that, Claire turned back to the brothel, walking quickly back inside.
Hurriedly, Theon picked up his sword, then hurried back inside. His former companions had vanished, apparently not eager to get caught up in the sibling's feud.
"Which of the girls do you like then?" Claire asked as Theon hurried in. "I've a fondness for blondes myself."
"You...what?" Theon asked, blinking stupidly.
"I prefer blondes, but I'll tumble any girl if she's shapely in a pinch," Claire said with a shrug. "It gets lonely out at sea, especially with naught but men aboard."
"What about salt wives?" Theon blurted, thinking back to his boyhood.
Claire's nose wrinkled. "A disgusting practice of a bygone era that has long overstayed its welcome. By the Treaty of Rivers and Isles of 2CE, slavery is forbidden in the Iron Islands, as they are rightfully a vassel of the Iron Throne."
"You always were fussy about the rules. But salt wives and thralls were never considered slaves; the Ironborn have ever kept them," Theon argued.
"Such is a practice that violates the spirit of the law, if not the letter. A true officer and lady understands that regulations are not to be followed to the letter, but to be obeyed in their original intent," Claire stated in a tone that brooked no argument.
Thus, Theon changed tactics. "Well, I don't know that this establishment offers boys, and I'm not certain I wish to discuss such things with my own sister."
"I'm not interested in boys," Claire said dismissively. She turned to Madam Gretty. "Bring me a few blondes to pick over. I'm in the mood for one with large breasts. What are you having, Theon?"
"I...I don't think I'm in the mood for a girl," Theon said faintly, and for the first time since he'd tumbled the brews wife three years ago, he actually wasn't.
"Oh? Well. I suppose I can wait then. It has been a while since I've seen my brother." Claire took out a silver coin and tossed it Gretty. "For your troubles." Then she picked up a heavy overcoat with golden buttons down the sides, putting it on, then setting an odd cap with a long, pointed brim to two sides, the front and back folded up under her arm, and buckling on a long curved blade.
"Well, let us be off then. I suppose I should make my introductions at the palace. Come. You may escort me," Claire satiated, and strode out of the brothel, putting on her hat once she was out of doors. She whistled, and three men in sailor's garb of canvas trousers and sail cloth shirts stood up from a dicing game, picking up weapons and falling in behind her.
Theon hurried after her, his long strides able to match hers, as he was only a bare inch taller than his sister. "Claire, I suppose it's good to see my sister after so many years, but what are you doing here?"
"I received word of the Hand's Tourney, and, upon consulting with the Crawling One, arrived to attend the festivities. We made port late this afternoon," Claire stated crisply.
"You intend to participate?" Theon asked incredulously. The Ironborn were not famous for their record in tourneys, as few were held in the Iron Islands, and they never had many knights, nor much interest in tournaments that were a part of the Andal tradition and associated with the Seven Goddesses.
"Do not be absurd. I make war, Theon. I do not play at it," Claire replied.
"You sound like Lord Eddard," Theon muttered.
"As he is a man of honor, I shall take that as a compliment," Claire laughed. She gave the startled Theon an amused smile. "Oh do relax, little brother. While I consider the Starks to be my foes, I also consider them to be noble ones."
"I thought you said you served the Iron Throne?" Theon asked suspiciously.
"I do. As is my duty as an officer and noble," Claire said grimly. "Come. I shall expect you to make introductions for me."
Flustered, Theon took Claire to the Tower of the Hand, as he had no idea where Robert was, and Theon knew that bothering the king was most unwise. The Stark guards were a bit surprised to see Theon with a woman in a very strange uniform and three armed sailors, but Claire had her men stay in the courtyard, and followed Theon to Lord Stark's study.
"Lord Eddard?" Theon called, sticking his head into the room.
"Yes? What is it, Theon?" Eddard replied, looking up from a large, dusty tome Theon had seen him browsing of late.
"My lord, I have the honor of presenting my sister, Lady Claire Greyjoy."
"Captain Claire Greyjoy," his sister said punctiliously. She bowed instead of curtsying, sticking her odd hat under one arm, one hand on her sword hilt. "Of the Indefatigable."
Lord Stark stood, returning the bow slightly. "A pleasure, ah, Captain Greyjoy. I had not expected your presence."
"I had only just arrived, and found my brother waiting for me, right where the Crawling One directed my steps," Claire said with a shrug. "I regret there was no time to send a runner to announce my arrival."
"I'd had word of a strange ship arriving in the harbor. I take it she is yours?" Lord Stark asked.
"If she is a three masted vessel, armed with fourteen scorpions below, and two mangonel's above, 156 feet beam to beam and a draft of nineteen feet, that would be my vessel," Claire answered formally.
"I believe that does fit the description. She is the famous flagship of Lord Greyjoy then?" Lord Stark asked.
Claire shrugged. "I cannot speak to my vessel's fame here in King's Landing, having not frequented this port, but she has been in service these past five years. Her sister ship, the Victory is to be launched in a months time, as per my report to the crown."
"I am afraid I did not receive such a report; I have only just begun my duties as Hand, and have much of Lord Arryn's documents to look over still. Will you join us for dinner, Lady Claire? I am certain Theon would be gladdened to see his kin again, and I would be interested to hear your reports myself."
"Very well. I shall be happy to dine with you, my lord. Can you see to my men? Three of them wait outside, and I would have them fed."
"Of course, I can see to it that food and lodging are found for them," Eddard offered.
"I appreciate the offer of lodging, but my men and I shall be staying aboard ship, save those on shore leave. We are here only for the Tourney."
"Very well. Tommard?"
"Yes, Lord Stark?" the guard said, stepping into the room.
"Show Captain Greyjoy to a room where she may refresh herself before dinner. Theon? A moment, if you would."
Nervously, Theon tried to give Lord Stark a smile as Claire was shown from the room. Once she had gone, Eddard motioned him to a seat, sighing heavily.
"I suppose it's past time you and I talked about your status, Theon," Eddard said quietly. "You know that you are my ward, and that though you are a man grown, you have not been allowed to leave my household."
Theon's mouth felt dry, and he tried to swallow. His voice came out as a rasp. "I'm a hostage. Against my father's good behavior. To prevent another rebellion from the Ironborn."
"That is true, to a degree. I have done my best to show you how to be a man, Theon, to raise you as one of my own children. I know it cannot have been a happy or easy life, to be away from kith and kin, a prisoner in all but name."
"I...in some ways, yes, Lord Stark. But in others…" Theon managed to swallow, but he couldn't meet Eddard's eyes. "In some ways, my time in Winterfell was happier than when I lived in my father's own keep. Your children are more like siblings to me than my own blood. And you...Lord Stark...you were ever kinder to me than my own lord father ever was. Perhaps now that I am his heir that would change, but…"
Eddard was silent, and Theon wrestled with what to say, finally, he managed. "I know you'd kill me, should my father rebel again. That would be what your duty would demand. But...but I hope it never comes to that."
"You think me so callous, Theon?" Eddard asked softly. "That I would kill a boy who ate at my table, who is friend to my children, and who lived under my protection for most of his life?"
Now Theon met Eddard's eyes, but his were wide and started. "But, that is why I am your ward, is it not? The King, he would require it."
"If Robert wants you dead, he'll have to do it by his own hand, and after he's wrested you from me by force," Eddard said grimly. "Iris Targaryen is one thing. She possesses dragons, and seems as mad as her father, has already proven her ability to make war, and is an avowed enemy of his Grace and myself. But you, Theon? Would you have your father rebel?"
"No. I thought it was grand and good that he declared himself king, but it brought only suffering to our people. He was a fool," Theon said bitterly.
"Then I would not hold you at fault. I would kill your father if he rises again, not you. Indeed, with Balon dead, I would see you installed as Lord of Pyke in his stead."
"What? But if he rises-"
"If he rises again, as you said: He is a fool. I do not think it likely, however. My plan, Theon, was simple. To win you over not by steel, but as Yunyun does."
Theon blinked rapidly. "As Yunyun does? You mean… as a friend?"
"Who do you love best, Theon? Who is your closest companion?" Eddard asked.
"Why...Robb. We've grown apart here in King's Landing, he doesn't-" Theon flushed, but forced himself to say, "He doesn't go whoring."
"You are a man grown. If you wish to visit a brothel, that is your own concern. The coin you earn is from your work as my squire. If you wish to waste it on whores, you are not the only young man to seek such pursuits," Eddard said with a shrug. "Robb is yet fifteen, and while he remains a child, he shall not get a woman with a bastard."
Slowly, Theon nodded. "I see. And my sister?"
"You may not depart with her. I will not give you over to your lord father. And your sister has a reputation as a pirate. True, she raids mostly merchants from Essos, but she is a pirate nonetheless. That is not the path I would set you upon. The Ironborn must change if they are to endure, Theon. They must become more than reavers and slavers. You have become a man of honor, Theon. And I would have your people learn the same from you."
Upon hearing those words, Theon's chest swelled with pride. "I'll do what I can, Lord Stark. We Ironborn are a stubborn lot, but then, so are Northmen. I'll lead my people to glory, whether they want it or not."
"That gladdens me, Theon. Though you are not a son of my body, I think of you as one," Eddard said. And, to Theon's shock and delight, Eddard Stark hugged him. It wasn't the first hug Theon had gotten from the Warden of the North, but it was the first in several years. When Theon had been a boy, he'd received his share of affection from his host, but as he'd gotten older, he'd required less physical affection from his father figure, and over time it had faded. Now though...now Theon realized that on many occasions, he really had wanted a hug from Westeros's Best Dad.
"I'll make you proud, Lord Stark," Theon said, his voice rough. "I swear it."
Theon even resolved to not visit whorehouses again, though that was a vow he kept only for the next few days. He was, in many ways, still a boy, and one ruled by his passions and lusts. Unfortunately for him.
That evening, Claire Greyjoy returned to her ship along with her men. The Indefatigable was moored at a dock that was meant for several large merchant ships, and to most eyes, looked distinctly out of place. No other ship at King's Landing, or indeed the world save for her sister ships the Victory and the Repulse, looked like the Indefatigable.
They did, however, look an awful lot like an 18th century East Indiaman, a class of ship that had absolutely no business being in a medieval fantasy world. Of course, no one actually knew this, save for several irate goddesses that had given the party responsible a through chewing out for their actions.
Captain Greyjoy strode up the gangway, to a cry of, "Captain on deck!"
The crew, oddly enough for Ironborn, saluted their captain adroitly, knuckles to foreheads.
"As you were," Claire said, nodding to the sailors, who quickly returned to their duties. "How stands the watch, Mr. Harlaw?"
"We have a visitor, Captain," Earl Harlaw replied. He was also dressed in a uniform similar to Claire's, another decided oddity. "Your uncle is below with her now."
Claire closed her eyes, and appeared to count to five as the crew hastened to scramble out of the way. "Mr. Harlaw. Are you trying to inform me that she is here?"
"She turned up not an hour ago, Captain. The Damphair decided it was best to pull her aboard before the Greenmen noticed, and I agreed with him, begging your pardon," Mr. Harlaw answered, looking slightly embarrassed.
"No, Mr. Harlaw, you did as you should have," Claire sighed. She supposed it was best she hadn't found a whore earlier after all. "Adjust the watch schedule. I may be...occupied."
"Already done, Captain. And...best of luck. I'd say Crawling One watch over you, but…"
Claire gritted her teeth. "Indeed. You have the deck, Mr. Harlaw."
"I have the deck," the first mate agreed, and returned to his task of seeing that the ship was set in order for the night.
"And send out a press gang. I have a feeling we may require more hands before this is all over," Claire said as she headed below."
"Aye aye, captain. I'll send out Lieutenant Qarl and some lads." Mr. Harlaw pronounced the word as "left-tenant," yet another anachronism.
Claire made her way belowdecks to her cabin, where she found her uncle Aeron Greyjoy, the Damphair and high priest of the Crawling One, waiting just outside.
"Uncle. She is here?" Claire asked, fiddling nervously with her hat under one arm, as it was against regulations to go inside covered.
"Once more, our goddess, She Who Crawls on Endless Tentacles has graced us with her presence, niece," Aeon Greyjoy replied. "Truly, you are blessed by Chaos herself."
"I'd rather she just bugger off and leave us alone," Claire muttered, being a rather impious sort.
Aeon glared at his niece, shaking his head and causing his long, shaggy mane of greying hair to move back and forth like swaying seaweed. "You were born under the Sign of the Goddess, She Who Rules Beneath the waves. She granted you this ship, and shall lead our people to freedom and glory through you, niece."
"And she's also a pain in the arse," Claire said, but nodded to her uncle. "Thank you for keeping her out of sight. It is best if the greenlanders do not learn of our ladies...peculiarities."
With that, Claire pushed past her uncle into her cabin, which ordinarily was a neat and orderly place, with every chart and log precisely where it belonged, including a desk, two sea chests, and a porthole to look out behind the ship. Now, however, things were strewn about everywhere as though an overly energetic child or a small hurricane had been set loose in the cabin. On the bed, dressed in one of Claire's own uniforms much to her consternation, lay a girl with long silver hair and green eyes, and one one tentacle that quickly vanished into her body after it dropped the book it had been holding up.
"Oh, alas, the pirate queen returns to RAVISH me," the girl wailed. "Me, a poor maiden, taken as a salt wife by cruel reavers, enslaved and forced to do UNSPEAKABLE lewd acts to satisfy the carnal CRAVINGS of the wild and mad queen of the seas!"
Glancing about her destroyed cabin, Claire tried very hard not to scowl, and only mostly succeeded, making her look as though she had to sneeze. "My lady. Is this what we're doing this evening? You do know there are other mortals you could grace with your presence."
"Well, yeah, but I'm not allowed in the Seven Kingdoms until the Tourney Starts. Probably gonna get another chewing out. Ugggghhhh. Those goddesses are so boring! Stupid Aqua. Why does SHE get to have all the fun!? We're both water deities!" the girl whined, sitting up on the bed.
"Of course, my lady," Claire agreed. Inwardly, she groaned. She was going to have to deal with this until the tourney? She had planned on getting some actual work done. "You shall be staying with me until then?"
"No, I gotta deal with some stuff. Stupid Kefka's getting rowdy AND that asshole up north's screwing around. And I sorta promised Madokami I'd help her and her girls out," Clair's guest sighed. Then she flung herself forward, wrapping her arms about Claire, who stiffened. "BUT CLAIRE-CHAN? How is Theon-kun?! My one true eternal love!"
Claire rolled her eyes. "My little brother is well, my lady."
"Oh Claire, we're lovers! You don't have to refer to me so formally. Call me Nyaruko-san!"
Claire regarded the goddess of the Iron Islands for a moment. She'd never been able to work out what the odd suffixes the manic deity randomly insisted on using meant. At times, she referred to herself as Nyarko, Nyarkolotep, the Crawling Chaos, or even the Drowned Goddess if she were in a bad mood. But at any moment, she could tack on all sorts of odd epitaphs, and use them to refer to others as well.
"We're not lovers, you just insist on harassing me," Claire replied, her tone mildly scolding. One of her supposed goddesses more irritating aspects seemed to be that she had only a passing acquaintance with the truth, and seemed to lie out of habit and reflex. Claire suspected (correctly) that a good portion of the Cult of the Crawling One's liturgy was nothing more than nonsense made up to amuse their capricious deity.
"That's just 'cause you won't let me use my tentacles," Nyarko muttered. "Or turn into you into a guy. Come on, I've tried it before, it can be fun to experiment!"
"I am quite satisfied as I am, thank you. Now, was there a reason for this visit, besides wrecking my cabin?" Claire demanded.
"Oh lighten up! You are like, the worst pirate I have ever seen. Pirates are supposed to be JOLLY!"
"I am not a pirate. I am a privateer, given Letters of Marque by both the Lord of Pyke and the Iron Throne to conduct commerce raiding operations against the Free Cities, Slaver's Bay, and other powers of Essos and the Summer Isles," Claire corrected.
"See, this is why I'm making Theon-kun my lover. You're boring. For someone reincarnated by a bunch of goddesses, you are really dull Claire. Theon-kun would be a pirate for me."
"I follow the New Way, as created by you, Lady Nyarathotep. Or did you forget?" Claire asked, her left temple twitching slightly.
"I should have just kept you guys as knock off vikings. That was more fun than stuffy british copies," Nyarko grumbled. What she was talking about, Claire had no idea, but the Crawling Chaos was strange beyond even goddesses. Nyarko brightened suddenly. "Hey, think you can get Theon-kun down here for a quickie? It's been way too long."
"Considering he is the hostage of Lord Stark and that the very first thing I would do once my brother was aboard would be to depart in all haste to save him from the greenlanders, no," Claire replied, trying not to rub her aching head.
"Drat. Well, I guess I can wait a few more days. I've waited a few hundred years already," Nyarko sighed. "Oh well. Hey, just a heads up, but there's gonna be a bunch of you people here for the tourney. Aqua's got a plan or something. I dunno, those meetings are boring, I usually sleep through them. Bye!"
And with that, Nyarko opened the porthole, turned into a writhing mass of tentacles, sliding through the space, and landing in the water below with a loud plop. Claire dearly hoped no greenlanders saw the Eldritch abomination from beyond the stars and self styled goddess of the Ironborn do so.
After cleaning up the absolute chaos that her goddess had left behind, Claire sat down on her bed and had a long think. What had Nyarko meant by "a bunch of you people?" So far as she knew, she and her brother and a few of her officers would be the only Ironborn to attend the tourney. She herself would not have attended, if Nyarko had not ordered it. As much as Claire found the weird deity distasteful, she was technically Claire's superior, and she would follow orders.
With a sigh, Claire turned to the secret compartment at the head of her bed, opening it with a secret key that sprang from a ring on her finger. Inside, lay a portrait of Iris Targaryen as a young girl, along with a lock of silvery hair. Tenderly, Claire caressed the image, bowing to it. "Fear not, Lady Iris. One day, I shall have my fleet, and we shall reclaim your place as rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms."
Maybe then, Nyarko would finally leave Claire alone, and she could find a nice girl and settle down in peace. Preferably somewhere far from the saltwater, so she was never bothered by annoying goddesses again.
Cast of Characters
Theon Greyjoy as; Desperately seeking fatherly approval
Claire Shinfornea as; Asha Greyjoy. Excuse me. That's CAPTAIN Greyjoy.
Nyarko-san, the Crawling Chaos as; The Drowned God
Eddard Stark as; Everyone's Dad
And The Iron Islands as; Wooden Ships and Iron Men. Get it?
And- wait. Where's that music coming from?
In an alternate reality, one with a lot more musical numbers; one written by The Grand Cognator
Theon gaped at the woman who had so brazenly refused his advances. "Just who are you?"
The woman blinked at Theon. "I see. Well, it has been a few years, so I suppose it is only fair that you failed to identify me. As for who I am...oh, boys!"
At the woman's call, there was the sound of opening doors and pounding feet, and a dozen sailors in various states of half dress pounded out into the central chamber.
"Yes, cap'n?" an old salt with an eye patch asked, a man that Theon somehow thought he recognized.
The woman nodded to Theon. "This is Lord Theon Greyjoy. He wishes for me to introduce myself."
The sailors flushed slightly. "What, here, now?"
"I insist. It's only proper," the woman declared.
The sailors knuckled their foreheads. "Right you are, cap'n."
A sailor hurried over with a large dark blue great coat, which the woman shrugged on, along with an odd hat, shaped a bit like a ship with a wide brim at the sides and the front and back turned up. Theon started when he saw a pin with the kraken of House Greyjoy on it, but he didn't have time to think as the woman suddenly stepped up onto a table, as one sailor produced an accordion, and began to play. This was especially odd, as Theon didn't know what an accordion was, as they shouldn't have been invented yet.
To his astonishment, the woman began to sing in a bright, clear voice.
When I was a lass I found a ship
While wandering the beaches for a skinny dip.
I ran to the Seastone Chair at Pyke
And I told my good Lord Father it was mine by right.
As she finished, the sailors all echoed the last line:
She told her good lord father it was hers by right!
I didn't know it yet, but by fortune sweet
I soon would be a captain in the Iron Fleet
She didn't know it yet, but by fortune sweet
She soon would be a captain in the Iron Fleet
My da' rode out to see the ship
And decreed only Greyjoys could captain it
The other reavers wouldn't have it, they called bull
But my father laughed and called the ship the Indefatigable
But her father laughed and called the ship the Indefatigable
My da' bade me kneel down at his feet
And he fashioned me a captain in the Iron Fleet
Her da' bade her kneel down at his feet
And he fashioned her a captain in the Iron Fleet
My brothers either hostage or dead at sea
A Reaver's education I did receive
When all the day's pillaging and raids were done
I offered sacrifices to the Crawling One
She offered sacrifices to the Crawling One
My sacrifices were judged good and meet
So I am still a captain in the Iron Fleet
Her sacrifices were judged good and meet
So she is still a captain in the Iron Fleet
As a Privateer I wish't be known
For I only sailed for the Iron Throne
But then they had the nerve to call my work at sea
The raggedy profession of piracy!
The raggedy profession of piracy!
For this insult I had them beat
For they spat upon the honor of the Iron Fleet
For that insult she had them beat
For they spat upon the honor of the Iron Fleet
So landsmen all, whoever you may be
If you want to rise to the top of the tree,
There's a path you can take to make it so:
Remember that my house's words are, "We do not sow,"
Remember that her house's words are "We do not sow,"
Take a Salt Wife or two, and kill lots of Essosi
And you can be a captain in the Iron Fleet!
Take a Salt Wife or two, and kill lots of Essosi
And you can be a captain in the Iron Fleet!
With that, the woman gave a deep bow, and the sailors and whores clapped politely. Theon, for his part, could only manage a strangled, "Claire?"
Fin