THEON

He watched Amina adjust Robb's crown with a soft smile on her face. The new king had shifted it back and forth half a dozen times, searching in vain for the most comfortable way to wear it. Amina must have had the magic touch, for Robb didn't move it again until the show was over and the crown was sent back to his chambers. "Should I remind you that he's to marry a Frey girl?" Theon whispered in Amina's ear later, when Cleos Frey had been dispatched with Robb's peace offer and the great hall was empty.

"No need, I arranged the match myself," she bristled. "Besides, betrothals have been broken before."

"Not without consequences."

"There was a time in which you all but dragged me to Robb's side, and now you wish to scare me away," she muttered. "I do wish you would make up your mind."

"You know I'm only looking out for you."

"If you were worried about me, you wouldn't be setting off to Pyke and leaving me behind," she snapped, with more than a little venom in her words. They both looked at each other for a moment. Finally, Amina sighed. "I don't want to fight. Not when you're leaving so soon. I just wish you weren't going."

"I'm the only one who can treat with my father, make him join the cause." Theon hoped that was true, but it had been ten years since he'd seen Balon Greyjoy. "But I wish I weren't leaving you." Amina threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "You could come with me."

Amina smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I think Robb needs me with him more than you do. But one day, I'll take you up on the offer. I'd like to try that axe throwing game you're always joking about."

"If anyone could beat the odds at the finger dance, it's you." He laughed. They hardly ever had to say goodbye to each other for any length of time, so neither of them knew the best way to go about it. Each time Amina would hug him and be prepared to send him on his way, Theon would think of something to say to put off leaving for a few moments more.

When Amina hugged him for the fourth or fifth time, Theon almost changed his mind. She hugged him so tight her arms nearly choked the life out of him. Though he'd never been at home in Winterfell, he'd always felt at home with Amina. She'd taken him under her wing, despite being several years younger than him, and always reminded him he was more than just the son of a failed rebel.

Now it was time for Theon to return to the Iron Island, to the home of his childhood, and he couldn't take Amina with him. He'd told her once that she ought to have been Ironborn. Women on the Islands could captain ships and fight in battles. They might never be Ladies or Queens in their own right, but it was said every man was a King on his own ship. The same was true of their women.

Theon joked that if she'd been Ironborn, he would have chosen her for his rock wife. He'd almost continued that she could still be his salt wife, but he knew Amina would have hit him, and she never pulled her punches. He considered reminding her of that now, but he'd delayed his departure long enough. It was time to leave.

Theon would miss Amina more than he would miss anyone. She'd been the best friend he'd ever known, and a sister too. My fearless dragon girl. He kissed her on the forehead and wriggled his way out of her arms. "Try not to get into too much trouble without me."

If Theon had been a child who couldn't recall the day he'd left Pyke in vivid detail, he might have said Seagard had the same look. But Seagard was large, and fortified with curtain walls that rivaled those of Winterfell. The only real similarity was the way the castle stretched out over sea stacks, into the water. But the stone bridges connecting the buildings made it all appear a bit more permanent. Meanwhile, Pyke only looked the way it did because half the towers had crumbled into the sea.

"Considering a good jump, are we?" The woman who'd joined him, had red hair, a shade somewhere between Sansa's and Catelyn's. She was slight of frame, but her dress had been laced tight to show the curves she did have. "I used to cliff dive, when I was a child. If only we kept that fearlessness our whole lives."

"You're Lord Mallister's daughter," he realized. "He didn't tell me you were so beautiful." Surely Jason Mallister had told Theon her name, but he couldn't remember it. "Sera?"

"Sallei," she corrected with a raised eyebrow. "That's flattering, but I'm married." Theon shrugged one shoulder. It wouldn't be the first time a married woman had caught his eye. She added, "I have a baby." Theon remained undeterred.

Sallei laughed. "Oh, you're exactly as Lyman said you'd be."

"Your husband is Lyman Darry?" Theon asked incredulously. He'd fought alongside the man, Lyman wasn't half bad in a battle. Clearly his men loved him; there was no other reason for them to cast their lot with a minor lord from a disgraced House. But he was just that, a minor lord.

In the Riverlands, the Mallisters were second only to the Tullys, and Jason Mallister had only two children. It wasn't outlandish to say Sallei Mallister could have married a Tyrell, or even Renly Baratheon before he proclaimed himself King. But instead, she'd married a lordling who was hardly more than a landed knight.

Sallei looked at Theon as if she could read his mind, and simply shrugged. "My father said you were expecting a Ironborn ship to meet you here. I'm not surprised they didn't come. You know my father killed your brother here."

She said it casually, which made it sting all the more. "I hold no enmity toward your father or any Mallister for what happened to Rodrik." He had no love for his eldest brother, and in truth, could count his memories of Rodrik on one hand. "Has your father not warned you away from me?"

"Oh, he tried," Sallei said with a laugh. She and her brother, Patrek, had the same bright smile. "But he never tries very hard. He knows I won't listen."

From one conversation with Jason Mallister, it was clear he would have given his daughter the world on a silver platter if she'd asked for it. Perhaps that was why Sallei been permitted to marry a Darry.

"I only came to tell you Patrek found a ship," Sallei said after a pause. "It's a trading cog, terrible thing if you ask me, there's been far nicer ships in our ports. But this one was easy to convince, and as you may expect, my father wasn't eager to find you a better option."

Theon scoffed at the obvious slight. But still, he was glad to hear he'd soon be on his way. The sooner he made it to Pyke, the sooner he would become a prince. Things would all fall into place just as they were meant to.

Sallei looked back toward the keep as if she'd heard someone call out. "Ah, well. I must be going. It was…lovely to meet you." She smirked as if she'd made a joke. "If you see my husband before I do, tell him not to die or I'll have the Stranger curse him." And with that, Sallei Mallister marched back into Seagard with purpose.

Theon was left standing on the ramparts, overlooking the sea, alone.

Theon's return to Pyke had gone poorly, to say the least. His father behaved as if a third cousin had returned for a visit, instead of his own son and heir. And that was another issue. If his uncle Aeron were to be believed, Balon was considering Asha as his successor. Theon's sister. With Balon's reaction to Robb's offer of alliance, and his disdain for Theon's appearance, Theon could only assume that Aeron the right of it.

But that would change; Theon would make sure of it. He was a prince now that Balon had proclaimed himself King. Theon would ensure he became his father's heir, by whatever means necessary. If his Balon wanted all Robb's secrets, Theon would give them willingly as long as it secured a place at his father's side.

Then there was the matter of Amina. She would curse Theon when she learned he wasn't coming back. But his dragon girl had trusted him with her life, and he wouldn't betray her, even now. Her secrets he would hold close to his heart. Her secrets would mean her life. I won't speak word about her, not even her name, Theon vowed. King Balon could do what he wanted with the Northerners, but Theon would protect Amina until his last breath. He owed her that much at least.

Not everything was bad. He'd acquired a new horse, too temperamental for most Ironborn to handle. But Smiler was perfect for Theon, who'd been riding horses in Winterfell for ten years. And now he had a woman to warm his bed. Esgred wasn't beautiful per se, but she was spirited and that was enough for him.

They talked as they climbed the hill to Pyke. Theon found himself telling the woman more than he should, but she was easy to talk too. He pulled back just before he mentioned Amina. Better not to chance it, even with a shipwright's wife.

As they neared the gate, he discovered a woman was waiting for them. She smirked when she saw him, and gave a wave. She had dark hair and brown eyes. She was dressed more like a tavern wench than a sailor, but her sun-kissed skin and the freckles across her nose proved she spent plenty of time in the sun. "Asha! They told me you weren't expected for days."

The woman raised an eyebrow, and shared a look with Theon's travel companion. Esgred just shook her head, which earned a laugh out of the woman he presumed was his sister. "You truly don't remember us at all," she said. "A pity."

Esgred shrugged Theon's arm off her shoulder and, much to Theon's horror, went immediately to hug his sister. "You look like a whore, Thyra," Esgred said with a grin. Not his sister then, but his cousin. Upon second inspection, he should have known. Asha had always had a vulture's beak of a nose.

He remembered Thyra as a child; she'd been raised on Pyke while her father, Victarion, was on his longship. She'd been closer with his brothers than him. At twelve she'd already been promised a place on the crew of Maron's longship. But that had been just before the Rebellion, and she had never gotten the chance.

"I ought to have your eye for that," Thyra said, but she grinned. "Perhaps I have been away too long. I may have actually missed you, Asha." Still processing the appearance of his cousin, who'd been at sea for half a year, it took Theon more than a few moments to register what she'd said. Asha. Impossible. This woman could not be Asha.

Thyra gave Theon a once-over, and from the tilt of her head, he knew he'd been weighed and found lacking. "In Theon's mind we are still little girls playing at being reavers," Asha said in a mock whisper.

"Speak for yourself, cousin. I was never playing at anything." There was steel in Thyra's tone, but Asha's smirk showed she was more than used to it. If anything, Thyra seemed more like Balon's daughter than Asha, at least in demeanor. Then again, she had been raised by him.

"Come, I'll need you to help me into my…" Asha trailed off and looked to Theon. "What was it again, my chainmail gown and boiled leather smallclothes?"

Thyra bared her teeth in a humorless grin. "A chainmail gown? Do you happen to have another?" She cast one more disinterested glance in Theon's direction, before heading toward the keep.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Theon demanded, mortified.

"I wanted to know what sort of man you were. Now I know." Asha shook her head and followed after Thyra. She paused a few feet away. "A word of warning, little brother? Be careful, not all Greyjoys are as friendly as me."

Theon sulked into the great hall, which was crowded with his father's lords and captains. Nearly every House in the Iron Islands was represented amongst the attendees, save for a few from Old Wyk who were on their way. Ale was flowing and a few men played the finger dance, no one paid him any mind.

On the dais, his father sat in the Seastone Chair, with Asha at his right in the place of honor. Thyra looked to be engaged in a serious discussion with her father. Neither of them acknowledged Theon's presence until Balon reprimanded him for being late. His cousin met his gaze with one raised eyebrow before returning her attention to Victarion.

He choked his way through supper and gulped down several cups of wine, wishing he could be anywhere but in that room. Asha spoke to him as if entirely unaware of his black mood, or else purposely trying to make him feel worse.

Finally, Balon stood and addressed his companions on the dais. "Have done with your drink and come to my solar. We have plans to lay." Victarion and Aeron were the first to follow after him. Thyra stood, but had a thrall refill her drinking horn. She took the Seastone Chair, and kicked her legs over the arms as if it were a chaise.

"It suits you, cousin," Asha teased.

"I'll tell Uncle Balon I want it moved to the Kraken's Kiss," she retorted with a smirk. "I hope the Stark boy didn't ruin your supper."

Asha grinned. "I believe it was the other way around."

Theon stared at his cousin in the Seastone Chair. No one else seemed the least bit phased that she would take it so casually, as if it were any seat at any table. "Would you sit the Iron Throne like that," he blurted before he had the moment to think.

Thyra raised an eyebrow. "No, not if I wanted to keep my limbs. They say those swords are still sharp enough to cut flesh."

Asha leaned toward their cousin, and said in a mock whisper, "He's only upset because he supposes that will be his chair one day."

Thyra laughed, one harsh bark. She stood, and finished her ale in one gulp. "I have a better chance of taking the Seastone Chair, and I don't even want the bloody thing." The woman turned and headed for Balon's solar without another word.

Theon made it across the slippery, swaying bridge to the solar, with some effort. His uncles were sitting on either side of Balon in front of the brazier. Thyra sat next to her father, picking at her nails with her dirk.

Balon waved Victarion silent when Theon walked it. "I have made my plans. It is time you heard them." Thyra glanced up, and looked between them, as if she knew something Theon did not. "If the god grants us good winds, we will sail when the Drumms and Stonehouses arrive…or you will. I mean for you to strike the first blow, Theon. You shall take eight longships north—"

"Eight?" Theon repeated incredulously. It was hardly more than he might take to Harlaw if he were to visit his mother at Ten Towers.

"You are to harry the Stony Shore, raiding the fishing villages and sinking any ships you chance to meet. It may be that you will draw some of the northern lords out from behind their stone walls. Aeron will accompany you, and Dagmer Cleftjaw."

Thyra was looking at him, waiting for his reaction. Theon knew he was red in the face, and he stammered looking for his words. She nodded as if he'd confirmed her suspicions and then went back to her nails.

Asha was given thirty longships to take Deepwood Motte. Victarion, the task of setting up an Ironborn base at Moat Cailin. The Neck was the only piece of land that offered passage between the North and all the continent below it. By blocking it off, Robb's troops would be unable to return home, leaving the North for the taking.

"Thyra, you'll sail with your father to take Moat Cailin," Balon continued. "When the Neck is secure, take your command up to Torrhen's Square. Be prepared for Winterfell to send reinforcements, however little they may be able to muster." His cousin grinned, though to Theon it looked more like a sneer. And with that, they were dismissed, and Theon's hopes of finding a place at his father's side went away with them.