In the days when Quellon Greyjoy ruled the Iron Islands, reaving had been outlawed. The ancient tradition of claiming the iron price became punishable by death and all raiding, raping and pillaging stopped in his quest to build a closer relationship with the other kingdoms of Westeros and to earn a name for himself in the history books. His plan failed, as unfortunately none of the greenlanders were willing to overlook centuries of violence, and all he succeeded in doing was alienating and impoverishing his people, as the Iron Islands were famous for being a completely barren set of rocky islands that only had iron to trade. Thankfully, his reign didn't last long as he had ascended to the Seastone chair already an old man and had died barely a decade later, leaving his seat to his son Balon just a few years before Robert's Rebellion.
Unlike his father, Balon did not care about being liked by the greenlanders. On the day of his formal ascent to the lordship of the Iron Islands in front of all of his vassals, Balon announced the independence of the Islands from the Iron Throne and his new title as King, and promised the return of their glory days where Westeros would fear the sight of any ship adorning the kraken sigil on its sails, where they would take food, coin and women to their hearts' desire and where they would prosper like they had before the time of his cowardly father.
"But first!" he had said, quieting the cheers from his vassals. "We must build our strength. We will train our men, we will build our fleet and most importantly... we will bide our time. No greenlander will know of our intentions until they see our fleet on their shores!"
And so the Iron Islands closed themselves off from the rest of the world. The few trading ships Quellon had dispatched were docked and burned, no Iron Islander was allowed off the Islands without Balon's permission and any greenlander mad enough to step foot on their shores was put to death. Balon's brothers Euron and Victarion were given command of their remaining 50 longships and tasked with looting Essos of any wealth they could find to sustain the citizens of the Islands until it was time to make their move, though they were ordered to stay far away from Westerosi shores.
That had been the best day of Rodrick Greyjoy's life until now. He had been nine at the time and after many long years of building and training and practicing in Essos, it was finally time to make their mark on the world and take what was theirs.
As heir to King Balon, he had been given his own command of 50 longships and the 5000 men they carried, and as his small fleet made its way North in the dead of night, Rodrick could barely contain his excitement. Of course, he had commanded raids on the smaller port towns of Essos and Sothoryos, but those were nothing when faced with this new task. For six years, the North had been growing in wealth and even the Mormonts of Bear Island, previously the poorest House in Westeros, was now wealthy even by southern standards thanks to their contributions to the ice trade and the amber that lay in their caves. And it would all be theirs.
Brought out of his thoughts by the arrival of a presence beside him, Rodrick turned and nodded a greeting to his uncle and namesake Lord Harlaw. The man was tall and gruff, though the young Greyjoy had always thought his uncle would look fiercer if only he let his beard grow out. Instead the man insisted on shaving once a week, never letting his facial hair grow beyond stubble.
"Rodrick." Lord Harlaw greeted. "We will arrive at Bear Island shortly before dawn, as expected."
"Good. I don't want the bears to know what is coming for them until we smash their doors in."
The older man was quiet for a moment as he regarded his nephew, who ignored his gaze to instead focus on the horizon, where their destination was.
"The men tell me you plan to attack the castle first?" Harlaw finally said.
"That's right." Rodrick responded, still refusing to look away from the sea.
"Are you mad?" This finally moved the young captain, as he swivelled towards his uncle in shock. "The amber mines are on the northern part of the island, most likely with no guards to be found, yet you want to dock at the castle, where we will have to get past soldiers, guards and the castle walls to reach any wealth whatsoever?"
"The castle is where the coffers are and where the riches are brought once they are mined." replied Rodrick. "It is by far the wealthiest part of the island and I didn't come here just to steal some scraps! Besides, if history has taught us anything it's that with all our men, the Bear Islanders won't stand a chance against us and it will hardly be a challenge at all getting through those castle walls."
The elder scoffed. "You clearly didn't pay much attention to your lessons. What history taught us is that Bear Islanders were fierce and raiding them was a challenge even back when they had shitty defences!"
"You would know, wouldn't you, Reader." the Greyjoy sneered.
Lord Rodrick Harlaw had earned the moniker of Reader during Quellon's days. Unlike most other lords, he had been happy to stop the raiding and to try at peace with the greenlanders. He had even gone so far as to study at the Citadel for a year. Most forgot, however, that though he didn't enjoy raiding and pillaging, he was damn good at it, and it was prowess on a ship that had earned him a command of his own even before he had gained the lordship of High Harlaw. He was smart and experienced in the way of the iron price, and very few of his raids had failed back in the old days, but that no longer seemed to matter.
Ignoring the barb, he continued in his lecture. "Do you honestly think that in the six years the Mormonts have been building their wealth, that they have just allowed it to rot in their coffers? I'm telling you, when we get there you can expect stronger walls and more guards and soldiers that what the history books tell us. Bear Island is no longer the poorest House in Westeros and you can expect that to reflect in their defences."
"Uncle, Bear Island has not been the subject of raids in almost 20 years now, they will never expect us and with winter just having ended and the cover of night, they will be weak and we will have the advantage."
"You will get us all killed!"
"If you say so." Rodrick shrugged. "However I am captain of this fleet and therefore that is my prerogative."
Seeing that he was getting nowhere, Lord Harlaw threw his hands in the air and stalked away to check on the men and equipment, cursing foolish Greyjoys as he went. He was interrupted, however, when a shout sounded overhead.
"Land!"
The cry had every man not holding an oar rushing to the prow of the ship to catch a glimpse of their destination and sure enough, after a few minutes, small flickers of light could be seen in the distance, likely indicating the presence of guards at the top of the castle ramparts.
"Hah!" Rodrick Greyjoy laughed as they got closer, the fires becoming more distinguishable until each torch could be seen separately rather than just as one blurry line. "There's barely twenty torches! See Uncle, they are as weak as ever!"
"Men!" The Reader shouted, ignoring his nephew in favour of organizing the fighters. "To your stations! Arm yourselves!"
Similar cries rang out on the nearby ships, all of them having caught sight of the island they were about to raid, and the noise alerted the guards on the walls of the castle, who began issuing their own commands.
Only 200 feet away from shore, the raiders were armed and ready. The Ironborn had sailing down to an art: their ships were crafted with the express purpose of being fast and easy to control, and they were built low to allow the raiders to jump over the side rather than having to lower a gangplank, all with the purpose of surprising the enemy; getting in, wreaking havoc and getting out was their goal. Just as the ships were about to get close enough for the men to jump, the fires on the ramparts multiplied as the torches were lowered into large oil basins, illuminating the castle clearly.
Rodrick Harlaw was right. The old wooden walls of his memory had been replaced with a great granite structure, complete with watchtowers and shields at the top that covered the archers stationed there, and their number had also quadrupled since the old days, now totalling around 200 men. The twenty torches that had lit the wall previously were just a ruse, and though the Bear Islanders couldn't have possibly known about the attack, they were prepared. None of this mattered to the captain.
"Charge!" The young Greyjoy screamed, leaping from the side of the boat to land in knee high water.
Following the lead of their captain, 5000 men including Lord Harlaw jumped with their own war cries:
"For Pike!"
"For King Balon!"
"What is dead may never die!"
As soon as they stepped foot in the water, however, the archers let loose their arrows and Ironborn began falling even before they had stepped foot on the beach. Simultaneously, the great ironwood gates to the castle opened and more soldiers streamed out in perfect formation and lined themselves at the foot of the walls. More and more came, armed with swords, axes and maces and wearing shining armour adorned with the Mormont's bear sigil as the raiders trudged through the onslaught of arrows. The trek up the hill was arduous, and even though the castle was only a hundred feet from the shore, it took the attackers almost a full minute to reach the awaiting defending army. A minute during which almost a thousand Ironborn fell while the last of the soldiers had streamed out of the now closed castle gate.
The arrows stopped once the two forces met to avoid the guards hitting their own people, but that didn't make the fight any less lethal, nor did they stay idle. Sounds of steel against steel rang out as Ironborn met Bear Islander, the two groups hacking away viciously at one another. This was no song and this was no honourable duel, men fought for their lives and did anything to ensure they kept fighting: maces to the balls, swords to the tendons, elbows to faces, it was absolute chaos and soldiers and raiders alike were falling like flies. Slowly but surely, however, the attackers were being pushed back down the hill, towards their ships that the archers had targeted with flaming arrows. Out of the 50 that had docked, ten had sunk or were in the process of sinking, and another fifteen had sufficient damage that it would be impossible to sail them all the way back to Pike, leaving only half of their ships in good condition if they needed to retreat.
"Kill them all!" Rodrick screamed. "Let them feel the kraken's wrath!"
"Greyjoy!"
The furious bellow sounded across the beach, louder than even the sounds of dying men and clashing weapons. The young captain whirled around, trying to find the source of the voice, and managed to duck just in time to avoid a morningstar to his face. Lifting his head up once again, Rodrick snarled at the sight of the warrior before him.
"I have waited my entire life for this opportunity!" he yelled. "You won't ruin this for me now!"
"That makes two of us!" Maege Mormont replied, swinging her weapon once again.
The she-bear wore shining armour with her House's bear sigil but no helmet, broadcasting her identity to everyone around as her dark hair blew in the wind. She wasn't the only woman among the soldiers, as over a quarter of the defending force were women hell bent on protecting their homes and their freedom, including her own mother and two eldest daughters. Bear and kraken faced off, dancing around each other and trading blows, completely blind to the rest of the battle as she wielded a morningstar in one hand and a sword in the other while he carried a two handed battle axe. The two were fairly matched, until finally Maege was able to smash her morningstar into his hand at the same time as he struck a kick to her abdomen.
Maege fell back to the floor and Rodrick screamed, dropping his weapon to cradle his shattered and torn hand to his chest. He did not see it coming when another soldier approached, sword raised with the intent of finishing the Greyjoy off before a dagger sliced through his neck, felling him before he could even approach the wounded kraken. Suddenly, as he was about to fall to his knees in pain, a pair of arms circled his waist and held him up.
"Uncle..." The young man murmured, too weak to make himself heard over the sound of the battle.
"Retreat!" Lord Harlaw screamed, leading the way back to their remaining ships while holding his nephew upright.
A few men were too slow to make it back to the ships and were either chased down by Mormont soldiers or struck by arrows, but within a few minutes the Ironborn had managed to make it back to their boats and sailed away, leaving the victorious Bear Islanders to watch as they fled, leaving their dead on the beach and the sea on fire from the broken and burning ships.
"Papa!"
Conversation was interrupted as the door slammed open and a little girl burst in, running around the large desk on her tiny legs and throwing herself at her father.
"Sansa, love!" Ned Stark laughed, diverting his attention from his son and nephew as he bent to pick his daughter up. "What are you doing here, my sweet?"
"Wanted to see you!" the child responded, placing a hand on her father's cheek.
"And where is your mother?"
The bright smile disappeared from the little redhead's face and she crumpled her brows. "Mama want to make me nap. Am not tired!"
At that moment, the occupants of the room turned back to the door as it burst open once again, revealing a panting and red faced Lady Catelyn. Robb and Jon exchanged a glance and muffled their giggles at the sight of the ruffled woman, her hair all out of place from running through the corridors.
"Sansa! I have told you not to disturb your father when he is in his solar!" She scolded, roughly taking the girl from Ned's arms.
"No mama, no!"
"I'm sorry, Ned." Catelyn said, ignoring her daughter's wails.
"It was no trouble, I was just teaching them about the books." Her husband responded with a smile, gesturing to the multiple ledgers containing the financial files of Winterfell that were strewn across the desk. "Sansa, love?" He called, smiling when she quieted and turned her attention back to him. "Do as your mother says and I will get you an orange for dessert, how's that?"
"Orange?"
"Yes, my sweet, an orange."
"A whole one?"
"Half of one, alright?"
"A whole one!"
The boys giggled once again as the pair negotiated and the great Lord Stark pretended he could refuse anything his daughter asked of him. Sure enough, Ned sighed and nodded.
"Alright a whole one." He finally agreed and the little girl squealed in victory. "But only if you are good for your mother for the rest of the day, you hear? She shouldn't have to run around the castle looking for you in her condition."
"Yes Papa, I promise Mama."
Sansa turned kissed her mother's cheek, gently patting the slightly swollen belly. It had been a delight when Lady Catelyn had announced just a few months prior that she was with child for the third time, and Ned had immediately turned into the most protective man on the planet. As soon as the announcement was made, he ordered plenty of bed rest and hired more servants to care for his wife and to take over some of her duties. The only reason she wasn't completely confined to her bed was because both she and the maester had argued against it, the maester claiming that exercise was important during the first few months to ensure a healthy baby, and Ned had grudgingly accepted that he was maybe overreacting, just like he had when Catelyn was pregnant with Sansa. Most likely if there were to be more children later, he would have to be explained all of this again, but it endeared Catelyn to her husband even more to know how much he genuinely loved her and their family.
Finally having managed to calm the girl down, Catelyn took her leave after placing a gentle kiss on her husband's cheek, much to the disgust of the young boys in the room.
"You know," Ned began, a teasing smile on his face as he turned to the two boys. "You both will be married one day."
"No we won't!" Robb cried. "Girls are stupid!"
"Yeah! And I'm going to foster away where there are no girls so I don't have to marry!"
A sharp laugh sounded from Ned as Jon spoke. "What makes you think there won't be any girls in High Garden or Dorne?" He asked.
"Why does Jon get to foster and I don't?"
The question brought Ned up short, as the teasing and humorous atmosphere faded away at Robb's words. The young boy was frowning at the table, lip trembling slightly as he played with the hem of his shirt. At only six years old, neither boy really understood why they had to be sent away from home at any point, and though the prospect was quite exciting for Jon, it seemed Robb was not looking forward to being left alone at Winterfell.
"You can foster away too, Robb, if you'd like." Ned answered, peering closely at his son.
"Really?"
"Of course! Though you would have to foster with a Northern House since you will be Lord Paramount after me."
"Yeah, and you can make loads of friends with other lords and when you grow up, you'll be the best Lord of Winterfell, cause everyone'll love you!" Jon added, putting an arm around his cousin. "And that way you can run away from the girls like me."
The young redhead boy giggled a little before pinching Jon.
"Silly. Mother says we have to marry when we grow up, cause we have to make alliances and fall in love and have kids for the future of Winterfell." Robb responded, a small smile returned to his face.
"No I won't!" the other boy claimed loudly. "I'm a bastard so I don't have to marry!"
"What? Who told you that?" Asked Ned, his face twisted in concern.
"One of Auntie Catelyn's maids." Jon responded innocently. "She said that since I was a bastard, no one would want to marry me, but that's good news if you ask me!"
"Jon..." Lord Stark rose from his seat and circled the desk to come and kneel by his nephew's side, taking a hand in his and staring at him intently. "You may have been born out of wedlock, but you are worth no less than any of us. You may not carry our name but you are no less a Stark than Robb, and you will allow no one to say otherwise, do you understand? You will point out this maid to me next time you see her and if anyone else mentions your status to you, you will come and tell me."
"Yes, Uncle."
"Why would anyone treat Jon differently just because his parents weren't married?" asked Robb.
Ned sighed and prepared to have the difficult conversation with his boys, but was thankfully saved by the door slamming open for the third time in less than 10 minutes. This time it was Maester Luwin that burst uninvited into the solar, panting and red faced as Lady Catelyn had done just before. His eyes, however, held a panic that immediately had Ned on alert and standing to attention, his son and nephew completely forgotten.
"Maester Luwin, what is it?" He demanded.
"My Lord! There's been an attack! Ravens!" the poor maester closed his eyes and took a few breaths to calm himself before trying again. "Ravens have arrived my Lord, from Bear Island and Flint's Finger. Both have been subject to raids from the Ironborn!"
"What?" Lord Stark gasped. "Casualties? What is the damage?"
"Bear Island managed to hold the attackers off and they only made it as far as the beach, though over a thousand warriors perished in the attack, but the Flints didn't fare as well." Luwin explained. "There is damage to the castle itself and multiple villages have been burned down. A year's worth of food was stolen, one of the coffer's vaults completely emptied of its 3000 gold dragons and just over 50 young women have gone missing, presumed taken. There was also heavy loss of life, though they fought back fiercely."
Robb and Jon were staring wide eyed at the adults as the news was announced, never having known such violence before. Ned turned pale at the losses for a moment before his brows brows furrowed in anger and his fists balled together at his sides.
"Send ravens to every holdfast in the North!" He thundered. "I'm calling the banners. Request aid from Dorne and the Reach, and inform King Robert of my intent to declare war on the Iron Islands. I will drag the Greyjoys out of their caves by their hair and I will eviscerate every single one of them if it's the last thing I do!"
"My Lord!"
"What?" Lord Stark was already half way to his desk when Maester Luwin called for his attention once more, swivelling around so fast his hair flew into his face, but the young boys were sat too shocked to laugh at the man's ridiculous expression.
"There were more ravens, my Lord. Oldtown was also attacked, as was Lannisport and King Robert has also called his banners. War on the Iron Islands has already been declared and the Lords are to meet him at Riverrun with as many men as they can muster."
"Good." Ned nodded. If there was one thing you could count on Robert for, it was war. After all, the rebels hadn't chosen him as their King over six years ago because he was particularly charismatic, but because in matters of war, there was no better than he. "Boys. Go get your mother and let her know what has happened and ask her to bring Ser Rodrick here. I have letters to the Northern Lords and King Robert to write and an army to gather."
The boys in question nodded and sped out of the room, racing each other to find the Lady Catelyn while Lord Stark and Maester Luwin sat themselves at the large desk and gathered quills, ink and parchment. Gathering thousands of men was not easy work, and they were already behind. Four separate attacks, all over the western coast of the country, with likely more to come. Time was of the essence and the Northern army needed to get to Riverrun as soon as possible.
