—The Iron Islands—

Pyke…

Sailing to the Iron Islands through the dense, heavy fog was rather endearing for the crew of the Falcon's Flight; the winds guided their sails, the captain steering the steam galleon through the Sunset Sea, and the engineers shoveling coal to fuel the oceanic vessel… As befitting the Age of Industry, ships ranging from merchant to military were incorporated with steam engines into their design along with resources sent to Westeros from its colony Mirantibus Spe—effectively making each vessel sturdier and faster than its ancient predecessors. Regardless, because the inventions were relatively new, almost all ships used a hybrid combination of both steam and sail power.

Daemon narrowed his eyes. "Qrimbrōstan sambrar (Cursed fog). Can't see a damn thing," he cursed silently.

"Captain!" Broden called out. "How far are we from Lordsport?"

"We should be arriving within the hour, lad!" the ship's captain responded.

Petyr, however, remained as apprehensive about the Iron Islands. They rebelled against the Baratheon dynasty twice and were almost wiped out entirely the second time they did so; nearly every ironborn—man, woman, and child—were buried underneath a pile of rubble when the Royal Fleet bombarded each of the archipelagos and the island chains themselves were rendered uninhabitable after being engulfed with wildfire caches. Of the few ironborn that were left, some were on the other side of the known world while one remained on the mainland; only House Greyjoy remained standing… but only due to the persuasion of Queen Sansa the Red Wolf.

After the War for Westeros ended, the Iron Islands began the process of rebuilding—and with aid from the crown, slowly began to show signs of progress. Under Theon's leadership, diplomatic ties to the mainland were established, the Old Way was banned, maesters were allowed onto the island, and thralls were freed as his grandfather Lord Quellon once tried to reform. Instead of reaving and pillaging, the new ironborn were instead sailors, explorers, and occasionally hired as privateers, tasked with carrying out assignments deemed too shady and scandalous for House Baratheon to deal with. Although their actions were critical in the War against the Band of Twelve and did have a seat in parliament, most continued to look down on the ironborn due to their history.

Relations turned sour once Argilac ascended to the Andalosinian Throne and worsened once they learned of their delegate Briala's execution. Once civil war broke out, the Iron Islands engaged in vicious naval warfare against House Lannister and House Redwyne at the Sunset Sea. Daemon heard rumors that despite the ironborn winning their fair share of battles and territorial gains, it was always a back-and-forth struggle—one party gains ground only to be pushed back by the other again. The ironborn were exceptional at naval warfare, on par with the Redwynes and second only to the Velaryons.

"Land ho!"

Daemon, Petyr, and Broden leaned over the edge and saw the Iron Islands. The shore was all sharp rocks and glowering cliffs, and the castle seemed one with the rest, its towers and walls and bridges quarried from the same grey-black stone, wet by the same salt waves, festooned with the same spreading patches of dark green lichen, speckled by the droppings of the same seabirds. The point of land on which the Greyjoys had raised their fortress had once thrust like a sword into the bowels of the ocean, but the waves had hammered at it day and night until the land broke and shattered, thousands of years past. All that remained were three bare and barren islands and a dozen towering stacks of rock that rose from the water like the pillars of some sea god's temple, while the angry waves foamed and crashed among them.

Drear, dark, forbidding, Pyke stood atop those islands and pillars, almost a part of them, its curtain wall closing off the headland around the foot of the great stone bridge that leaped from the cliff-top to the largest islet, dominated by the massive bulk of the Great Keep. Further out were the Kitchen Keep and the Bloody Keep, each on its island. Towers and outbuildings clung to the stacks beyond, linked to each other by covered archways when the pillars stood close, by long swaying walks of wood and rope when they did not. The Sea Tower rose from the outmost island at the point of the broken sword, the oldest part of the castle, round and tall, the sheer-sided pillar on which it stood half-eaten through by the endless battering of the waves. The base of the tower was white from centuries of salt spray, the upper stories green from the lichen that crawled over it like a thick blanket, the jagged crown black with soot from its nightly watchfire.

"A gold kraken, with its tentacles writhing and reaching against a black field; the sigil of House Greyjoy, Lords of the Iron Islands," Daemon observed. The banner streamed from an iron mast, shivering and twisting as the wind gusted. "Words are 'We Do Not Sow.'"

"I thought it was "What Is Dead May Never Die,'" Broden commented.

"No, that's a common saying among the ironborn. When someone says that here the other person responds with the phrase 'But rises again, harder and stronger.' Father once told me the previous Lord Reaper of Pyke, Dagon Greyjoy, was a ferocious sailor hired as a privateer in the War against the Band of Twelve."

"And Lady Briala was…?"

"One of his granddaughters and the ironborn representative in parliament," he confirmed. "The person we're here to see is… ooh boy."

Petyr raised an eyebrow. "Lady Asha Greyjoy, another of Lord Dagon's granddaughters and the current ruler of the Iron Islands. Queen of Salt and Rock, Daughter of the Sea Wind, and Lady Reaper of Pyke. Briala was her younger sister. Her flagship, the Great Kraken, is said to be the fiercest war galley made for battle and sank more than a hundred pirate ships in less than a year. Recently, by the time word was spread about Argilac disbanding parliament and having most executed, to say the Greyjoys were furious would be a monumental understatement. Word has it that Asha has deployed the Iron Fleet's full might against those who traverse too close to their shores along the Sunset Sea. They are under the command of its Lord Captain and Asha's brother, Commodore Harwyn Greyjoy—who's said to be as dangerous of a warrior as his sister."

"Then we should—"

*BANG!*

A lead ball whizzed past Daemon's head and pierced the hull of the ship. Someone had taken a shot at them!

"Pirates!" the captain yelled. "All hands on deck!"

"Pirates out here?" Broden searched.

"I told you coming here was a bad idea!" Petyr exclaimed as he unsheathed his sword and pulled out his musket.

"Where are they?!"

Daemon searched left and right but could not see anything past the fog. Several longships quickly come alongside the Falcon's Flight before the crew notices grappling hooks being thrown, with ironborn raiders and sailors drawing their ships closer. The multitude of ships is close enough for attackers to swing on ropes, cross from ship to ship. Guns and blades are drawn, both sides ready to kill each other before Broden notices many ironborn leaping onto the deck.

"My, my… a lost bird too far from home," one of the ironborn waved an ax.

"Mainlanders are not welcome here," another agreed.

"There's too many of them," the Mallister commander informs the group.

"I count 30 ironborn, and 12 of us," Petyr observed. "We might be able to take them—"

"We're not here to make more enemies," Daemon refuted. He tried a diplomatic approach. "We mean you no harm. We've come here to seek—"

*BAM!*

One of the ironborn used his musket rifle to ram Daemon in the gut, causing him to curl as he gasped for air. Petyr and Broden tried to intervene, but they too were held down by ropes and held at gunpoint.

"Not just any lost bird," one ironborn marauder examined. "A Baratheon no less!"

"Baratheon?!"

"Damn Argilac sent his men here to kill Lady Asha like they did Briala!"

"Drown them! Throw them overboard!"

"Offer them as a tribute to the Drowned God!"

More and more were beckoning each other to kill them. For a while there, it felt as if Daemon made a grave miscalculation as the animosity the ironborn held for his brother. Briala was, of course, ironborn like them… but she was one of their beloved politicians in the Westerosi Parliament whose proposals benefitted the Iron Islands and its people. One of the ironborn, however, pushed his way through the group and stared down at them. This ironborn was a large, muscular, and ferocious-looking man with long dark hair, wearing a heavy grey plate armor with a tall black kraken war helm on his head that had a decorated iron kraken whose tentacles coil down below his jaw, a cloak made of nine layers of gold cloth sewn like the kraken of his house and carried a steel battle-ax in one hand.

Petyr raised his head. "Commodore Harwyn Greyjoy," he stares at him.

"So you know who I am, do you?" Harwyn stated. "But you trespass in our waters. That makes you enemies."

"You're wrong!" Daemon refuted. "We've come here seeking an audience with your sister, Lady Asha!"

"For what purpose, whelp?"

"For help! We're trying to build a coalition against my brother, Argilac!"

"And how do we know you're not one of his—"

"DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I'D SIDE WITH MY BROTHER AFTER EVERYTHING HE'S DONE?!" he yelled, fighting the restraints as more ironborn held him down. "You hate Argilac, I get that. So does the Vale, Riverlands, and the North! Half of Westeros is revolting against him. Just… please take us to Pyke. I'll explain more there… if your sister wills it."

"Your Highness!" Broden cried out.

Harwyn grabbed a handful of Daemon's hair and lifted him off the ground, causing the rebel Prince to yelp in pain. Bloody hell, the Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet was strong! He stared coldly into his eyes, temporarily releasing his grip, and quickly cupped his cheeks in one hand to catch him as he fell. The Lord Captain turned Daemon's face left and right, noticing some powder burns and some scratches; confirming that the youth had indeed engaged in battle.

"Take this one with us," Harwyn ordered his men. "His… companions, can wait here. Under guard. They are to not leave the Iron Islands until my lady sister renders her judgment."

"You can't do—"

*BAM!*

He backhanded Petyr across the face before he could protest. "If any try to escape, kill them all," he ordered.

Harwyn mounted his horse to escort the now-prisoner Daemon Baratheon through Lordsport on the way to Pyke castle; the rebel Prince's hands were chained behind his back and a rope tied around his neck with Harwyn holding the other end. He was leading him through the streets of a large assembly of ironborn sailors and fishermen shouting obscenities and curses at him. If Daemon somehow slowed down, the rope around his neck was roughly pulled, forcing him to run forward to stand next to Harwyn's horse.

The long ride to Pyke was as endearing as it was unpleasant. It was nigh on sunset when they reached the walls of Pyke, a crescent of dark stone that ran from cliff to cliff, with the gatehouse in the center and a single square tower. More than 800 years ago, there were originally three towers connecting; although since rejuvenated and restored, made anew, the Iron Islands still bore the scars left by the destruction inflicted by Daveth Baratheon's wrath. Daemon remembered the stories of his ancestor's war against the Greyjoys in the Second Greyjoy Rebellion as the sound of waves crashed against the cliffs before being dragged to ascend the twisting steps to the solar and into the main hall.

Sitting on the Seastone Chair was Asha Greyjoy, Lady of the Iron Islands. Lean and long legs, with black hair cut short, wind-chafed skin with a faded pink scar on her neck, she was an attractive and bold young woman in soft green wool, simply cut, the fabric clinging to the slender lines of her body—but was wild and headstrong. Her dark eyes glanced up at the arrival of her brother as well as their new 'guest.'

"My lady sister," Harwyn knelt.

Lady Asha Greyjoy rose from the Seastone Chair. "So… the fabled 'King in the Narrow Sea' comes sailing through my waters as if he owns them, a fight breaks out on my island, and now he comes before me… dragged through the streets like a disobedient dog," she said.

"I came seeking you out, Lady Asha," Daemon tried to reason.

Outside the rain was falling harder than ever. Asha pulled out a dagger with her right and held onto an apple in her left; she used her dagger to peel off a bit of apple skin a put it in her mouth. As she chewed, a small stream of juice spilled down her cheek before being swept up by her tongue. A lock of black hair fell across her eyes. Her kraken guards were shouting for bread and bacon. They made a deal of noise, as few as they were.

"Tell me. Was our sister's body even cold before or after your brother decided to put bounties on our heads? Or was Argilac this maniacal from the beginning?"

All eyes turned to Daemon and were filled with both suspicion and resentment.

"My brother's been that way for as long as I can remember."

"And yet you let Briala die."

"I did not—"

"You let our sister die," she snapped. "The Iron Islands will never forgive your family for this outrage; as if the Baratheons had done enough to our people already."

"THEN BLAME ARGILAC AND GENERAL GERION, NOT ME!" Daemon snapped. "I had nothing to do what happened at the Westerosi Parliament! Lady Briala was one of Prime Minister Garland Mallister's supporters who called for a Great Council to peaceably remove Argilac from the throne before Gerion and his troops stormed the halls!"

*BAM!*

Asha punched Daemon across the face, but the rebel Prince returned his gaze upon her.

"Are you done yet? Or do you still want to keep beating me?"

"You're either brave or got a death wish," she peeled the apple in her hand again.

"Perhaps a little bit of both," Daemon dryly responded. "But I'm sure you've heard what I'm doing out there."

"Yes, we've all heard the stories. Forging alliances with the Arryns, the Starks, the Tullys…" Asha leaned down and pressed her blade against his throat. "If I cut your throat right now, it'll send a message to your house."

"Kesā daor gaomagon ziry."

"What the fuck did you say?!"

Daemon stared into her eyes. "I said 'you won't do it.' Because if you do what you seem to suggest, then all you will be doing is helping Argilac win. And he will exterminate out every single ironborn until you are all wiped out. Every man, woman, and babe. Kill me and you lose everything again," he said coldly. "And deep down you know that. That is why I sought you out to invite you to join this alliance. Because none of us are beating Argilac alone. We are all you have left. So… Asha of House Greyjoy, Lady of the Iron Islands, Queen of Salt and Rock, Daughter of the Sea Wind, and Lady Reaper of Pyke… what's it going to be?"

Asha felt her lip curl into a snarl; how a mainlander even approach her in her hall and speak to her in that manner? From a Baratheon, no less? With the Iron Fleet at her disposal, she could easily take Lannisport and every city port along the western coast – but the Redwyne Fleet and Royal Fleet would only impede her path. She and her kin were excellent at naval warfare, but Asha remembered they could not take on the entire world by themselves—history has a way of reminding the ironborn of that. Her ancestors Balon and Euron Greyjoy both rebelled and were all put to the sword. She weighed her options.

"Take him to the cells," Asha commanded.

—The Vale of Arryn—

The Eyrie – High Hall of the Arryns…

Sitting on her weirwood throne, Sharra was busy shuffling through papers of various reports. After the latest attempted incursion against Gulltown by Argilac's fleet, coastal security has doubled, and merchant-lords began petitioning House Arryn. Granting permission to Ser Jacaerys Velaryon, the Master of Ships were successfully able to drive the Royal Fleet away from the Vale's major port city. By land or sea, any who attempted to invade was swiftly repelled.

But that was not her only issue.

Many of her vassal lords believe that Sharra must marry and soon if the Arryn bloodline were to continue. Already suitors were lining up like crows on a battlefield, but she had already rejected Ser Rupert's son Gyles Royce, Lord Vardis Belmore, Lady Anya's son Ser Sandor Waynwood, and Lord Tavon's son Ser Humfrey Corbray along with a dozen other potential suitors. Sharra had too much on her mind right now to worry about than marriage or having children… even if she believed her advisors were right. Regardless, her subjects loved her as a politician and diplomat. Negotiating and listening to her counsel provided Sharra the necessary insight she needed to help navigate the Vale through the ongoing civil war.

"You rule the Vale with such grace and elegance," a voice called out.

Sharra turned around. "Lord Jaqoros. Forgive me, I did not hear you approaching."

"My apologies, Lady Arryn. It is as the greatest Master of Whisperers in history once said, 'Our role is to be sly, obsequious, and without scruples.'"

"Who said that?"

"Varys of Lys," Jaqoros replied, "the Master of Whisperers to Kings Aerys II, Robert I, and Daveth I. As a capable a man I am, even my intelligence network pales in comparison to the Spider himself."

"I'm sure you have your own clever ways," Sharra replied.

"The birds sing in the west, the birds sing in the east, if one knows how to listen. Our role in court is to be a servant willing to do anything and everything for the crown without people knowing what we are up to. But only the genuinely great ones can keep their distance. They don't get attached to their agents." He sighed. "Speaking of our roles, I bring news from the frontlines."

"Oh?"

"My little birds inform me that Prince Daemon is brokering an alliance between the Tullys, Starks, and the Greyjoys. Your troops need supplies from the Tullys, but to acquire that they in turn need more military aid from the North and Iron Islands. If they can get it, the Riverlands will lend their full support."

Wha…? Now THAT did surprise Sharra; Daemon was not normally one to be much of a diplomat no matter how hard he tried. But to hear the attempt at forming an alliance with three of the Great Houses of Westeros on behalf of the rebels… it felt as if was a monumental undertaking. "Will he pull it off?" she asked.

"Difficult to say, my lady. So far House Stark has pledged themselves to our cause. They're keeping the Lannister armies at bay for now. But wars can be won on or off the battlefield in more ways than one, I'm afraid," Jaqoros answered. "Information is key to victory. You need to learn your enemy's strengths and strategies. You need to learn which of your friends are not your friends—now that the Talons have shown themselves to be embedded within our ranks."

"Oh, for the love of…!" Sharra felt a headache coming. She had heard reports regarding the Talons, but never knew they could inflict potentially major damage. "How can we expect to win a war if we can't even trust our own people?"

"You don't sound very optimistic."

"Perhaps… perhaps I made a mistake by not acting sooner. Because of me, Daemon has got his hands full out there and I'm stuck here reading casualty reports in the thousands. But what can I do? My soldiers need a steady supply line to march by land or sea, of which we neither have nor possess. General Gerion and Argilac nailed us to the wall."

"It's the larger principle that matters, Lady Arryn. Everything you're doing is a delaying action for the King in the Narrow Sea. That's the reality. Do not blame yourself for being put in this situation. We all have our roles to play. So we're simply buying our revolution time, keeping our forces in the fight until we have a real alliance to challenge Argilac. But our treasury will soon run dry if this war drags on for too long. We'll be needing a Master of Coin to finance our efforts. Do you know any suitable candidates?"

"Myle Grafton has been one of my family's strongest supporters," Sharra recommended. "As the Lord of Gulltown, he's exceptionally good with finances. A prime example was in less than eight months, he's increased the town's income tenfold—the largest surplus in revenue since Petyr Baelish's tenure as customs controller. I'll forward his files if you want."

"We'll have a look at them," Jaqoros acknowledged. "Once Prince Daemon returns, we can submit Lord Gradton's file to him."

Before they could continue, one of the Vale knights came rushing in.

"My lady! Lady Arryn!" he shouted. "It's the Royal Fleet! They're making another push towards Gulltown!"

Sharra rose from her seat. "Get our soldiers into position! Tell Lord Admiral Jacaerys to keep the enemy away from Gulltown!" she commanded.

"Yes, my lady! At once!"

All three rushed to their posts; but within the shadows, a silent assassin peered around the corner with a sneer and sharpened his blade. In due time, the next Talon will strike.

Chapter End

Author's Note: Daemon experiences his first—but rather unpleasant encounter—with the Greyjoys of Pyke; as most ironborn still blame the Baratheon dynasty for the demise of one of their MPs, winning them over will not be easy. Especially Asha and her brother Harwyn. Meanwhile in the Vale, Sharra is informed of another attempt from Argilac's fleet to seize Gulltown; but unbeknownst to her, a silent stalker lurks from the shadows. Who will he target next? Find out soon.

JC: Will the ghost of Daveth appear somewhere down the line? That would be so cool!
xD

―I'll think about it.

Mr Blu: I can imagine an intro for this story
(The theme would be the intro for black sails)
It starts with the flag of the Baratheon sigil and a statue of daveth the first
Than the screen hows the andalosian throne but in its shadow is the silhouette of the iron throne
The screen than shows stormbringer in a stone (like Excalibur) than the flags of the houses show up on the screen on the sides they're fighting on (example starks arryns and daemons flag)

C.E.W: So the hatred between the Ironborn and Baratheons is still there. Even after Daveth wiped out the old Ironborn culture and allowed Theon to begin anew. Asha and Harwyn don't seem to understand is that the old Ironborn had it coming.

Balon Greyjoy was an old stubborn fool who had to start two stupid rebellion to get two of his own sons killed, not to mention his people. Euron Greyjoy was a crazed murdering psychopath, he earned what he got.

Deep Asha knows that Daemon is right despite her pride of her people which hopefully she won't let drive her decision. Because if he and his supporters, the Vale, Riverlands and the North go down then the Iron Islands take the shotgun with them. No one is going to win the war alone, they need o join together to even have a chance of defeating Argilac. Right now it is only the Lannister army invading the Riverlands. The Crownlands, the Stormlands and the Reach are still on standby and if those two armies join together then Daemon and his supporters may not survive.