Jon
It was early morning by the time they arrived near the town of Flint's Finger. The hills that surrounded the coast provided the perfect cover hide and a vantage to observe. The rescue party was waiting for the crannogmen sent to the Finger ahead of them to return and report. They left behind their boats at another outpost at the western edge of the swamp and proceeded on foot. The castle and town were in clear sight as were four Greyjoy ships just a couple miles off the coast.
Until a few days ago, Jon hadn't heard any kind of response from Lord Redgar Flint, not even when he called for aid to fight the Bolton's. They had been unresponsive but now it was clear why.
The sun was near setting as the scouts reported their findings to their Lord and their King. "The Ironborn have made a small blockade. The Flint's haven't recovered from the war and haven't enough fighting strength to repel the Ironborn. A dozen of the villagers were killed and Lord Flint's sons were taken hostage. As long he keeps feeding and supplying them, they don't cause trouble. Any sight of an army or any resistance and the Ironborn sail away, but not before tying the boys to rocks and pushing them into the sea."
"I see," Lord Reed said. "Do you have boats ready for us?"
"We acquired three from Lord Flint with promise of the deaths of all Ironborn and safe return of his sons."
"Can you get aboard without notice or detection?" Jon asked.
One of the crannogmen smirked. "You should have seen Victorian Greyjoy's face when we-"
"Not now," Howland stopped them. "We can do it, your grace."
Jon looked out to the four ships. "We only need one ship. The other three will remain here and be given to Lord Flint. We'll make for them after twilight has passed." The crannogmen bowed their heads and returned down to the docks of Flint's Finger. "As for the rest of us, all we can do is wait."
The rescue party stuck close to the base of the hills, but kept a few men near the tops to spot any unwanted persons. Lord Reed took this opportunity to try and show Jon a bit about warging.
"I met with a few wildlings while I was at Winterfell and invited some of them to come live at Greywater Watch. I learned a great understanding of how their type of warging is different than that of the crannogmen. When you warg, the animal itself will initially fight against you unless you've made a strong bond with that animal. The Wildlings tend to focus on achieving full control over their animals, but the crannogmen focus on achieving peace with our animals."
"I met a warg beyond the Wall, didn't like him at all. Whenever he was warging, it seemed like it was harder and harder to come back to himself." Thinking back on how Orell would shake and shiver when his eyes returned to their normal color, it was like watching a ghost possess him.
"If you take control of the animal, it will instinctively fight back. If you aren't strong enough, you'll lose that find and your mind will have a small piece of it torn from your soul. If you make peace with the animal, it welcomes you."
It was starting to make sense to Jon, but what he still couldn't grasp was how to actually enter the mind. He never asked Orell how he did it because he avoided him every chance he could get. "I understand what you mean. When I was Ghost, I could feel like we were both there. He knew what I wanted to do and at the same time I knew what he wanted to do."
"That's what having peace with the animal is. You raised and trained your direwolf since he was a pup. His bond with you is an unbreakable one. Achieving that with a new creature takes years longer. With how much your dragons listen to you, you may be able to sooner than that."
But there was still the main question. "But how do I actually do it? Do I picture myself looking through their eyes, do I reach out and think of being them? What did think about when you enter your raven?"
"Hmm… I suppose it's what I Feel about my raven that allows me to enter. I took to raising it almost eight years ago. I don't necessarily have a bond with it, but he knows me and I know him. I don't about becoming him, rather I am with him." IT made a little sense, which was progress nonetheless, but there was still more. Lord Reed took a minute before trying to give an example. "Do you know any other languages?"
"Know is a very strong word. I'm trying to learn High Valyrian, but my only teacher so far was captured by Ironborn. I only know a few words by heart. But… nevermind."
"You've started down a path, you might as well finish it."
Jon didn't know how to describe it. "Whenever I say the words right i feel… something. Like there's a weight to each word as it leaves my mouth. It almost feels like I'm remembering something I've forgotten."
"I think the Valyrian in you is waking up." Lord Reed told him. "Though whether it be Valyrian, Dothraki, the Old Tongue, in the beginning, when you memorize words or phrases, you think of their translation in the common tongue, don't you? Until there comes a time when it suddenly snaps and you just know it by heart. You don't of what they mean in the common tongue, you don't need to. The same principle can apply to, say… swordfighting. Do you remember when you were first really learning to fight rather than keeping your shield up?"
Jon smiled a little when he thought back on the days he and Robb looked like bad dancers swinging swords. "Aye, it was all about form and technique."
"And how do you feel now when you fight?"
"It's just instinct. I don't have think what to do, I know it."
Howland nodded. "In the end, it may just be yourself. Something you haven't come to terms with or some distress."
Jon became puzzled. There were many things that were causing distress. Being King in the North, fighting the Night King, rescuing Daenerys, so much more.
At this point, the light of the horizon was nearly gone and one of the spotters whistled a signal that it was time. "We'll continue this when we secure the ship and are on our way to Pyke." Howland said.
The men gathered together and made their way to the docks with the cover of darkness concealing them. The Ironborn loyal to Yara and Theon all split up amongst the three boats. The crannogmen and Lord Reed filled what remained on two while Theon, Jorah, and Jon all boarded the third. With the Ironborn rowing, the boats glided quietly on the water. The noise of the oars mixed with the sound of the ocean.
As the boats were nearly at the targeted ship, the crannogmen began to remove their cloaks and their shirts. With nothing but their pants and bronze daggers strapped to their hips, they slipped out of the boats and underneath the water. To everyone's surprise, they made no noise at all in the whole process. The boats drew closer and before they reached the ship, the crannogmen appeared from below the surface of the water all around the ship and began to climb aboard from the sides. As the boat Jon was in just pulled up next to the ship, the sounds of light thuds could be heard before Lord Reed appeared above deck and tossed a rope ladder to them.
Jon climbed aboard and saw all of the Ironborn crew were dead. "Ten of my men will stay to clear the other ships. Use what clothes and armor you can find to disguise yourselves. There were eighteen Euron loyalists on the ship and all their bodies were lined up as the ten crannogmen slipped away in the darkness of the water.
"How'd they move so quiet like?" One of the Ironborn loyal to Yara asked as he and the others prepared to sail.
"I think it's because they eat frogs" another guessed.
"Enough" Theon said "get the ship ready for sail while we dump the bodies." Jon, Jorah, Howland, and the remaining crannogmen all found uniforms of their size and disrobed the bodies they belonged to. Jon preferred to keep his boots rather than the one's his chosen body were wearing since he could smell them from a good enough distance. He put on the last of the rugged armor with the kraken sigil and swung a coat over his arms. He had to admit, he liked the feel of it more than he did a cloak.
Jon turned to Ser Jorah. "How do I look?"
"Too pretty to be Ironborn. Try wearing a helmet over your hair." Jorah tossed Jon a crude leather helmet to try on similar to the one he was already wearing.
Jon brought the helmet up to his head, but the smell inside it was worse than the boots. He held it away and dared to not put it on. "That smell is not of this earth," he declared.
"What you whining about?" Jorah asked smuggly. "my helmet stinks, these gloves have crumbs in them, these boots feel like there's some kind of sludge in them. But I look like an Ironborn more than you right now, and I smell like one." Jorah walked away as Jon looked back at the helmet. He held his breath as he quickly placed it on his head. The smell seemed to not be as strong afterwards. He guessed it was because he hair was trapping it. But he knew he would need a long bath after all of this.
By the time the ship was ready, Theon spotted a small light on another ship, waving back and forth. "The other ships are clear, let's get going!" The anchor was raised and the sails lowered. The winds were fair that night and they began the journey to Pyke. Jon and Jorah assisted in dumping the bodies into the ocean as Theon began to discuss the plan to infiltrate Pyke with his men. The moon was shining high above them all, nearly full. They would only have about a week to make it.
In the days that came and went, Jon couldn't seem to be of use on the ship since he knew nothing about sailing and the Ironborn constantly told him to move out of the way. He settled for practicing his swordsmanship with Lord Reed, his men, even the Ironborn. It reminded him of training the recruits of the Night's Watch given how much better he was than them. He ended being a mentor and improved many of their skills. He even got to knock Theon on his ass like the old days.
Jon had left Longclaw back at the Greywater Watch since it would stand out and was far too valuable to lose to Euron fucking Greyjoy. He settled for the best steel sword he could get from the Ironborn they looted before dumping.
Where they were now, everyone was currently busy and he decided to have a few moments to himself. He did what he usually did when he wanted some peace. He stood at the helm of the ship and stared off into the ocean, brooding.
His thoughts drifted to Winterfell and his anxiousness to see Arya and Bran. Rickon's wound will have been healed already and he might even be drilling with the other children by now. From what Lord Reed told him about Bran, he wasn't the same person really. Jon quite understand what he meant. In truth none of the Starks were the same as the once were. He was more excited to see Arya than the others. He was told that she carried a small sword with her when she arrived. 'Did she really keep Needle this whole time?' He then began to feel worried about Sansa. Was she doing alright as the Lady of Winterfell? Ever since the encounter with Littlefinger in the crypts before he left made him feel uneasy. His thoughts then began to linger on Ghost and his dragons. He couldn't believe he had named one after his mother unintentionally.
Ygris seemed to be more attached to him though. She was just as energetic and obnoxious as Ygritte was. He remembered her eyes and how staring into them made you think they were on fire. Her eyes... he could see them staring back at him. He could perfectly see her whole face looking back at him. It was as if she was right in front of him.
"Jon!" a voice called out. He broke out of the trance he was in and turned around to see Theon looking at him. "Are you alright?"
Jon wasn't sure for second. He felt a little strange. "What do you want?" he asked sternly.
Theon cleared his throat and gestured behind him. "I think now's bout the time for me to get into shape to be brought to Euron." His plan involved him being beaten bloody enough to be as if the men who supposedly found him enjoyed it. He never looked at Jon's face when he spoke.
Given how close they were to Pyke, now would be about time. "And what are you telling me for?"
"I figured you'd want to be the one to do it." He said nervously.
Jon merely shook his head. "I'm not gonna beat you bloody to get revenge."
"We both know I deserve it." He mumbled.
The Theon Greyjoy he knew when he left Winterfell was gone forever. The man before him was someone else. He was broken, but slowly piecing himself back together into something else.
Jon stepped forward and grabbed him by the collar of his doublet and forced him to make eye contact. "You killed Ser Rodrick, you killed two farm boys, and you burned Winterfell to the ground." Everything he said to him seemed to hit Theon like a hammer on an anvil. "You betrayed us, you betrayed Robb, and you betrayed our father. Our father treated you like a son, regardless that you were a damn hostage. He was more to you than your real father ever was."
"I know, and I betrayed him. You kept being as your father raised you and you're here now, made a King by those who follow you."
Jon shook his head. "I didn't expect that to happen, I didn't seek it out. I did what I thought was right and let the consequences follow."
"I tried to be what my father wanted, and I was betrayed, cast out."
"Then we have a bit in common for once. Betrayed and cast out by those we wanted to be proud of us." His death at the Wall was still just a rumor and a story to those who never witnessed it, and it was best that it stays that way.
Theon acted shaky the whole conversation, as if he was scared someone would hit him. But now he seemed to stop, he seemed to lose a bit of the misery in him. "I never burnt Winterfell."
"What?"
"It was Ramsay, he led the sack of Winterfell, not me. My men turned on me and gave me to him before any of that."
"Then that's one less thing to forgive. You saved Sansa. You brought her back to her family. If you hadn't done that, I would have killed you. She believes in you still. I don't. So show that I can. Show me that you're Stark as much as you're a Greyjoy." Jon walked away from Theon and could tell that he was very afraid, but he could also see a small bit of foolish bravery rising.
They passed by many of Euron's fleet as they got closer to the island. Theon was beaten and bruised and the others were in their full disguise, making sure to hide anything that hinted they were Northerners. Theon was being kept out of sight below deck as everyone could feel eyes watching them. Hours had passed until finally, Pyke came into sight.
The tension seemed to last too long for them when they reached the docks. As they prepared the ship for disembarking, Lord Reed slipped next to Jon. "My men and I will stay on the ship while you go up to the castle. When the time is right, we'll slip in."
Jon didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. He followed one of the Ironborn below deck to retrieve Theon. He was already weakened from the beaten he had, but he could still walk. His hands were bound in front of him and he kept a very small blade, no bigger than his middle finger, up his sleeve. They escorted him above deck and as soon as Euron's loyalists saw him 'captured' they began to mock and laugh at him, but Jon noticed that there were some who looked displeased and averted their eyes.
As they made their way up to the gates of the keep, they attracted a large group of Euron loyalists behind them, wanting to see what would happen. This was proving to be bad since they were starting to become outnumbered. Ser Jorah walked up next to Jon and whispered to him, "No matter what happens, you and Daenerys have to make it out of here."
Jon couldn't say anything back to him, there were too many watching them. He didn't want to think it would come to that.
As the approached the gates, they were stopped by a guard on the Ramparts. "The fuck you want?" He shouted.
One of Theon's men did the talking for them. "We've come for the family reunion between uncle and nephew!" Theon's men and the others who followed laughed aloud and cheered when they presented Theon by shoving him into the dirt.
"Raise the gates!" The guard walked into a tower and the gates began to open. The all walked inside, proceeding with caution.
Jon couldn't help but feel nervous as the gates closed behind them. Each step he took his feet felt heavier than they have ever been. They drew closer to a stone bridge that led to the inside of the great hall. But before they even reached the bridge, every one of them could her a woman screaming from inside. The noise seemed to echo all throughout the island. Jon could recognize the voice was Daenerys's. He wanted to run inside as fast as he could, sword drawn and kill everyone inside, but Ser Jorah lightly shoved his shoulder, "hurry up!" he said casually.
Jon looked back and could see just as much worry on his face. Another scream sounded as they drew closer to the doors to the Great Hall. When they reached them, they opened and inside Jon saw who he assumed to be Euron, standing over Daenerys holding a knife covered in blood. He was licking the blade clean, smiling as he did it. Daenerys was one the floor, naked and grasping her right leg from where blood was spilling. She looked directly at Jon and her face seem to scream 'help me!'
Jon couldn't contain himself anymore. He felt a raging fire within becoming an inferno. But before his hand could reach for the pommel of his sword, Jorah shoved him again. He didn't understand how he could watch this. Jorah had been guarding her for years, and now here she was, bleeding on the ground naked, while a maniacal madman licked her blood. Jon walked slowly with Theon.
Euron finally noticed them and looked upon his nephew. "Little Theon!" He tossed the knife far aside, letting it clang on the stone floor, and approached his nephew quickly. He cupped his hands onto Theon cheeks. If he got any closer, he might as well kiss him. "My dear nephew! Oh, how I missed you!"
Theon's acting leader gave a small boot to Theon's side. "We caught cockless here and ten of his traitors trying to steal our vessel at the Finger. They now lay at the bottom of the sea, without cocks like their great captain." Euron and his men all laughed which was a good sign that they were buying the act.
"Oh, my dear nephew," Euron gloated, "You truly are a shit mainlander. Not a captain, not prince," He leaned in and whispered to his, "not even a bitch to a fucking Bolton." Theon shivered when he mentioned that. "Did you really think you could fight me with only twenty men?"
Jon some of the others looked confused at each other.
"My King," the leader said, "I said there were only ten."
"Were there?" He asked as he approached the leader. "Because I count twenty of you." Euron drew a dagger he had at his side and stuck the blade up into the leader's throat without a signal warning.
Immediately the loyalists behind them drew their swords and began attacking. As Theon's men were being cut down before they could retaliate, more of Euron's men appeared from within the Great Keep and rushed them all.
Jon and Jorah drew their swords and began to defend themselves with the few Ironborn left that were able to draw their own as well. One of Theon's men cut the bounds and he picked up a sword from the ground. The sounds of clashing steel sang in the Great Keep and more and more of Euron's men seemed to enter.
As Jon, Jorah, Theon, and the remaining five of Theon's men formed a circle of defence, more than two score of other Ironborn surrounded them.
"You honestly thought it would be this easy?" Euron question seemed to be directed to all of them, but he was angry at all of them now. "I left those ships at the Finger with orders not to return unless I told them to, even if they were to capture you." Euron's gaze turned over to Jon and Jorah. "And you two, you think that just because you dress like Ironborn that you look like Ironborn? I've seen the whores of King's Landing put on a better performance than you two." He chuckled at them before looking back to Daenerys. "I'm disappointed, really I am. I was hoping that there would've been something to make this day into a tale of legend. The Kraken King trapping the Dragon and the Wolf." He sheathed his blood stained dagger and walked over to a table where he picked up a large axe that rested upon it. He walked over to Daenerys and let the axe blade swing near her arms. "I want you to tell me honestly, what you thought would happen." He looked extremely bored with them. "If I don't like what I hear, something's gonna get cut off." He let the blade fall right next to her head.
Jon didn't break his gaze with Daenerys's. Her eyes were red from tears, and her skin was turning a slight pale from the loss of her blood. "Theon was going to be the one to kill you and claim your fleet as his. We hoped that the tale of a cockless man killing a Kraken King would show the Ironborn he was more than you ever could be." Most of it was made up on the spot. Euron wanted something to amuse him, but that was the best Jon had.
Without even hesitating, Euron brought his axe up and swung it as fast as he could down at Daenerys. When the axe hit the floor behind her head and cracking the stone. Jon gasped, praying to every god that he missed. Daenerys remained as she was, but very shocked. She didn't seem injured. Euron knelt down and picked up long strands of her hair. He looked over at them and began to laugh. "If this is how you react a queen getting her hair trimmed, I can't wait to see you when I actually hurt her." He left his axe embedded in the stone floor and put his foot on Daenerys's neck and pushed down. "Drop your weapons," he said calmly as he choked her.
Jon looked at Daenerys and could she her mouth the word 'no' as she began to choke. Jon couldn't bear it and let go of his sword, and the others followed after him. Euron removed his boot and walked over to Jon. A devilish grin grew on his face as he looked at Jon. "For the King of the largest country, you have the smallest brain… and the balls. I was never going to kill her today. That'll happen after she watches every last second of your flesh peeled off your skin while I fuck her." He turned to his men and spoke to one of his officer's. "Were there any men on their ship?"
"Three, my king," the officer replied. "They wore the best disguises out of all the ones here, but we thought they could use some improvement, so we shot them full of arrows and that seemed to make them look just right.
Jon began to tremble. Lord Reed was dead? 'Dammit. Dammit Dammit DAMMIT!'
Euron laughed as he walked back to Daenerys. "Bind her wound and put her back with my wife. Throw these three in with them. As for the rest," his gaze fell upon Theon's men, "kill them then hang them with the other bodies from the bridges for all to see."
A group of men approached Jon and Jorah and punched them each in their faces many times.
Theon suffered blows to his stomach, but he fell to the ground, curled up and crying out like a little boy feeling great pain. Another pair of men seized Theon and began to drag him away with them to the cells. Jon and Jorah were dragged behind him and as the screams and pleas of the loyal Ironborn could be heard in the hallways.
