Asha

She was still seething. She had been a prisoner of the Blackfish for weeks already and they had just reached Winterfell a few days ago. The "King in the North" had met them in the courtyard and then almost as quickly confined her and her men to the kennels. Even empty they had smelled of dog, of shit and Gods know what else. She would rather have been in a dungeon. The day after they arrived, the Blackfish and a tall, slender girl in Mormont colors and an imposing man wearing the gauntleted fist of the Glovers had come into the kennels and started to sort everyone out. The Glover man, she assumed he was Lord Galbart Glover, was shooting daggers at them with his eyes. Judging by his demeaner, he'd kill them all where they stood if he could. Thank the Drowned God that he was likely ordered not to.

Once they had been properly sorted, a squire had been sent back to the Great Keep while they were kept waiting in the courtyard. She tried to keep her eyes open and discretely look for any chance to escape. An inattentive guard, a poorly repaired gate or wall, a horse left unattended. But she saw nothing no matter how much she studied the area. A commotion to her right drew her attention. For a brief moment she hoped that maybe one of her men had seen something she hadn't and had started a diversion that would let them attempt an escape. But her hopes were quickly dashed. It was only the King coming down to gawk at them.

She had to admit, he cut a dashing figure in his dark blue pants and shirt with a boiled leather breast piece covering a coat of chainmail. On top of that, he wore a grey tunic that had a white direwolf embroidered on it that he had draped over his shoulders and on his head was an understated crown of iron and beaten bronze inscribed with runes. His hair was long and curly while his beard was neatly trimmed. On his hip he wore a bastard sword with a wolf's head pommel. From a completely unbiased point of view, he was eminently beddable, the long face of the Starks not withstanding, and if she was here in any role other than as a prisoner she would definitely try and get him into her bed.

When he stopped in front of them, she got the shock of her life. Theon had told her of the Stark direwolves, but she had never seen one. Until now. Standing beside the King, was a snow white direwolf with deep red eyes who's head reached almost to the King's shoulder. How the fuck hadn't she seen that huge beast before?! When he moved, she got her answer. The direwolf moved on silent paws. Fuck, that thing would be death on the battlefield, you'd never know it was there until it was tearing your throat out. Her Ironmen were pulling back from the fearsome creature as they were visibly terrified of it. The king though simply reached over and scratched the wolf's massive head behind his ears. While scratching his wolf, the King spoke:

"My name is Jon Stark. For those of you who do not know, I'm the Lord of Winterfell and King in the North. You people have invaded our lands, killed our sons, raped our daughters and stolen anything of value that you could get your hands on. That ends now."

Asha spoke up, interrupting the King, "And who's going to stop us? You? You're a boy who thinks he's a king. You barely control the lands around your own castle."

The King looked at her with his cold, grey eyes and took her measure. As she stared back at him, she saw his eyes grow even colder. How was that even possible? Wait, where the fuck was the wolf? The answer to her question came when she felt a hot, wet breath on the back of her neck and, just on the edge of hearing, a low, deep rumble of a growl coming from deep inside the chest of the direwolf. It was standing directly behind her with it's jaws only inches from her neck. She felt her insides turn to jelly and her knees grew weak. She could face a hundred bowmen and feel no fear. The fiercest storm could rage and she would greet it with a smile upon her face. But the prospect of being torn to pieces by a wolf the size of a horse terrified her. It was only with the greatest effort of will that she managed to keep herself standing tall with her eyes fixed on the King.

But the King had her pegged now. Judging by the slight smile on his face, she wasn't fooling anyone with her performance. The King replied to her:

"You're right. I don't control all of the North yet. There are traitors that need to be dealt with and vermin that need to be exterminated before I can rightfully call the North mine. Now, the way I see it, I have two ways to free the North from you and your kind. I can call my banners, march through the Wolfswood and kill every last one of you we find as we go, or I can see if you're willing to make a deal. I can tell you right now which option I prefer. If I had it my way, none of you thieving scum would live to ever see those shit stained islands you call home again. But I have more important matters to consider than my lust for vengeance. So it's your call. We can either talk, or I can kill you all here and now."

Turning his head just slightly, the King said, "Ghost. Come."

As silently as the direwolf approached her, he disappeared only to reappear standing beside his master before dropping down to sit on his haunches. It did nothing to diminish how impressive the animal was. Asha took a minute to look at her men, both the highborn and the low, and they were all unnerved by the wolf. But it was only one animal and would die from a crossbow bolt as easily as any other. Then she looked up. All the walls of Winterfell were fully manned, the gates were all guarded, dozens of men were drilling in the open with pike, sword and spear, she could hear archers somewhere off to her left sending arrows into targets. The King in the North had a larger force here than she thought he would. Looking back at the King, she nodded her head in acquiescence. She would negotiate, for now anyway. It's not like their situation would get any worse by listening to what he had to say.

Stark nodded in reply, turned to one of her jailers and said, "Lord Garth, please have Lady Greyjoy escorted into the Great Hall, and if you could, please send runners to request that my other Lords and Ladies to join us." Pausing to redirect his words he continued, "Lord Glover, as your lands are currently occupied by the Ironborn, you'll have the right of speaking first. Before we do that however, we must finish our business here."

The last she heard as she was led away was the King saying, "Right, the rest of you, highborn and low, I have a proposition for you."

It took the King more than half an hour to join them in the Great Hall. Over that time, she watched as a trickle of men and women from many of the Great Houses of the North entered the Hall. She saw Mormonts, Manderlys, Umbers, Glovers, Cerwyns, Burleys and others who's sigil she didn't recognize. She even saw Tully and Blackwood men. If this was only part of the men that Stark had at his command, then she had definitely been wrong about how much force the North could bring to bear on them.

After the King entered the Great Hall and seated himself across the table from her he said, "Well, now that we're all here, lets get down to business. Lord Glover, as your lands are currently held by the Ironborn, what do you demand of them to have peace?"

The bearded Lord of Deepwood Motte rose from the table and said, "Thank you, Your Grace. As all here know, the bloody Ironborn attacked my lands and my castle while my brother, our men and myself were in the south fighting the Lannisters for King Robb. They compelled my sister-by-law to surrender the castle. She and her children along with my ward, Larence Snow, have been held captive ever since. I demand that the Ironborn holding my castle surrender, that any who have committed crimes against my people be turned over to face the King's Justice, that my brother's children and my ward be freed and that House Greyjoy compensate my House for the damage they've caused and the food they've eaten, the loss of which may jeopardize my family's survival this winter. On those terms, I am willing to accept peace."

Asha couldn't help but scoff.

She asked him, "Is that all? Why don't you demand the surrender of the Iron Islands while you're at it. Your men were defeated in the field and the castle was surrendered to us. That makes it ours. If you want it, come and take it."

With that, she leaned back in her chair, crossed one leg over the other and glared at the assembled Lords and Ladies as if daring anyone to challenge her. Inside though, she was shaking like a leaf. Every word she had just uttered was a massive bluff. She knew how lightly held Deepwood Motte was. Hells, the North as a whole was lightly held, despite the difficulty they'd had reaching Winterfell, and that was a situation that was unlikely to change. Euron had declared during the King's Moot that the war with the North was pointless. They gained nothing from it but a worthless piece of frozen shore. He had his eyes on bigger game. But if she told anyone here that, they'd throw her in a cell, call their banners and have themselves a merry old time killing every last Ironborn in the North. Her only chance of getting anything even remotely fair for her people was to convince these uptight greenlanders that they had more strength in the North than they did.

It was only when the King leaned forward and put his right arm on the table and looked at her with an eager glint in his eyes that she considered that she might have just erred. Stark said:

"Well, if that's the way you feel about it," turning towards Galbart Glover he continued, "Lord Glover. Since Lady Greyjoy has refused to negotiate for the return of your lands, you are free to take your men and take back your home, My Lord. You will have the honor of the command as is your right. I'll send an additional five hundred men with you to ensure your attack succeeds. Any Ironborn that manage to survive your attack, you may offer them the choice of the Wall or death."

With obvious relish, Lord Glover replied, "Yes, Your Grace! We'll leave at first light. Don't expect too many men to reach the Wall though. I've got no interest in being merciful."

"Nor should you, My Lord."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Asha shouted. "I never said I wouldn't negotiate. I said those terms were unacceptable!"

The King fixed her with a hard glare and in an iron voice told her, "Then why don't we cut the shit, My Lady? I've sent scouts all through the Wolfswood and along the Stoney Shore. You don't have more than a thousand or two men scattered across the North, and that's me being generous with the numbers, more likely you have between five and seven hundred. I have nearly five thousand men here at Winterfell alone and thousands more that I can call from White Harbor. How long do you think your men will last? When I order the attack, your men will be slaughtered. Maybe one in five will survive, if they're lucky. Ser Brynden has told me of your cunning. Don't prove him a liar now and act like the fool that gets her men butchered."

Asha glared at the King. She knew she was beaten Gods damn him. But did the man have to be so damn smug about it? She had to maintain the front though. If these greenlanders knew for a fact how weak they were, they wouldn't negotiate at all. She had a part to play here. And if she played it well, perhaps she could turn the tables on Euron. And wouldn't that be a grand way to fuck the bastard over? All right, time to play.

Leaning forward to match the King in the North's posture, she said, "All right, let's cut the shit. You've got all your Lords and Ladies here in some attempt to impress and intimidate me. If you really wanted my people dead, we wouldn't be here talking. You'd be leading your men west to throw us out of the North. But you can't do that because then you'd have the Boltons in your rear and from what I hear, Lord Bolton is very eager to fuck you up your arse. Now, I can make it easy for him to do that, or I can make it hard for him to do that. It's your call, really. My men and I are Ironborn. Dying isn't exactly a terrifying prospect for us. You know, the whole, 'What is dead may never die,' bit."

That simply brought another infuriating smile from the King in the North. He asked her:

"Did you already forget about those several thousand men I have in White Harbor? Lord Manderly has near ten thousand men in the city. One raven from Winterfell and those ten thousand men will keep the Boltons occupied for a very long time, if not outright crush them. That leaves me free to crush your men without a care in the world."

"Aye, but how long before King's Landing hears that you've been named King in the North and that the North still rises in rebellion? Do you really think Tywin Lannister is just going to look the other way? How long before a Lannister Army marches up the King's Road and joins with the Boltons? You Starks will lose this castle, again, and then who will be willing to follow the 'King in the North' then?"

"The Lannisters haven't sent army this far north since the Age of Heroes. They aren't going to start now. And even if they do, it'll take at least a month for them to march all the way up here, if not longer. How long will it take to burn your people out? Two weeks? Three? We don't even need to kill all of them. Just kill enough of them that the rest are no threat to us. If you want to prevent that, you need to agree to terms."

Asha opened her mouth to reply, but the King just shot her a withering glance and said:

"Shut up and listen. Your men are hopelessly outnumbered and the North is ready and willing to kill every last one of you. Seven hells, my bannermen would love nothing more than for me to release them to go on a rampage and slaughter you all. I would love nothing more than to do that. But I have more pressing concerns at the moment than killing a bunch of thieves. So here is my offer:

You will surrender all the Ironborn in the North to me. All highborn leaders will be treated in accord with their station and will be held as hostages to be exchanged for Northern hostages. The rest of your men will be sent to the Wall to join the Night's Watch. There is a war coming from beyond the Wall and all of Westeros will need every man we can spare on the Wall. Once hostages are exchanged, you will be free to go as you please. As I understand it, you're fleeing from your uncle. Hold true to your word, and I'll not send you back. But if you don't surrender to me here and now, a raven will fly for Pyke today. And we'll make an offer to your uncle that he won't refuse. You, returned to him in chains, his men allowed to leave the North and return to the Iron Islands in exchange for any hostages he holds. How long before you think he'll accept that?"

"You wouldn't dare make that offer. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms knows my uncle is a madman. Why would you try and make a deal with a madman? Especially when I can offer you a better one."

"Because even a madman will do the things that serve his own interests. Your head on a spike is in his interests. And how can you offer me a better deal. You couldn't even garner enough support to follow your father on the Salt Throne."

Now it was her turn to smile. Asha leaned back in her chair again and raised her eyebrows before saying:

"Because I know Euron. And I know the Ironborn. Allow us to return to the Iron Islands, and all the Ironborn in the North will join with me. That adds a large force of fierce fighters to your army. Send your raven to Pyke with your offer for Euron. As you say, Euron will accept it. He won't abide by the terms of it, but he will accept it in an attempt to fuck you over. Bring me and my men down to the beach on the Stony Shore, make it look like you intend to hand me over to him. But have your army hidden in the woods, waiting for him. When he attacks, and make no mistake he will attack you on the shore, you and your men can fall on him and crush him. I'll become Queen of the Iron Islands then. And we can make a peace between us.

"This war is as bad for us as it is for you. All we've gotten from you is a bit of frozen dirt and some trees. My father was an idiot for rejecting your brother's offer. He could have had all the wealth of Lannisport, instead he attacked fishing villages. I won't make that same mistake."

"So you're proposing that if we help you fuck your uncle over, you'll leave our lands. And all you want out of this is, what? For good Northmen to shed their blood for your freedom? Are you as mad as your uncle? Why in the name of the Old Gods would I agree to that?"

"I'm not asking you to shed blood for our freedom, I'm asking you to shed blood for your own. Do you really think you can win a war fighting the Ironborn, the Iron Throne and your own people? You help me kill my uncle, the Ironborn will leave your shores and never return. And you can be free to fight your other wars."

Judging by the muttering she heard coming from some of the Lords gathered with them, she had made at least a few points that they didn't completely disagree with.

Speaking again, she said, "I do have a question for you though, Your Grace."

"What is it?"

"What offer were you making my men after you had me led away?"

"The same one I was making in here. That any man who wished to be free today and be treated to a good hot meal and clean clothes could join the Night's Watch and leave for Castle Black as we were talking. Seven of your men agreed to take the Black. The rest are back in the kennels until we can figure out if any of them need to be tried for crimes they may have committed against my people."

"How dare you! You made that kind of offer to my men without me present?!"

Pointing his finger in her face, the King told her, "You are a prisoner here, Lady Greyjoy. You have no rights beyond what rights I give you. Your men made a choice. Just as you made a choice to negotiate. Now, if you're quite finished with the feigned anger? We will take a short break for us to discuss your proposal."

The King then leaned forward and to his left and said, "Ser Marlon? Will you please escort Lady Greyjoy to an interior chamber and post two of your men as guards on her door then join us back here?"

From down the table, a voice answered, "Yes, Your Grace."

As she was led away again, she saw a messenger run into the Great Hall and whisper something to the King who's face went white and his eyes grew wide. She saw the King grab the man's arm and ask him something before rushing out of the Hall and into the courtyard. She wondered what that was all about?