Theon Greyjoy loved the Iron Islands. Although the more he thought about it he couldn't exactly answer why. His people; the Ironborn, were a brutal and vain bunch who respected only strength and despised all honest toil. Even his own brothers had always treated him with distain and indifference. There were often times Theon would dream of leaving the Isles never to return, perhaps he could travel the Free Cities or have adventures in Lys. As a third son he would certainly be afforded the freedom to do so. All of that was done now, Rodrick and Maron were dead and he was now the heir to Pyke and the Iron Islands. His nuncle Dagmar had always told Theon to be careful what he wished for the Drowned God may just grant your wish. It appeared Dagmar Cleftjaw had been correct. Thoughts of Dagmar reminded Theon of why he loved these barren rocks he called home. Dagmar Cleftjaw is the Master of Arms on Pyke, he had placed a driftwood bow in Theon's hands on his 5th nameday and from that day forward the young Kraken would scarcely be seen without it. Dagmar was a hard man with a gentle nature, he had snow white hair and a hideous scar on his mouth. When Dagmar was just a boy of three and ten a longaxe blow nearly killed him, splintering his jaw, smashing his front teeth and leaving him with four lips instead of two. He is one of the most skilled warriors of the Ironborn and had trained the young Greyjoy in arms, raiding, and sailing. Theon would miss the grizzled warrior dearly for he had given him more smiles and happiness than Lord Balon ever had. He thought back to the time he and Asha were on Lordsport, getting into mischief with the young Tris Botley when they were set upon by a group of five men who Theon didn't recognize. The men had attempted to rob the three young nobles of their belongings and the Drowned God knows what were their plans for Asha. Theon had managed to wound one man before he was captured. Soon after though Dagmar appeared and slew all five men in matter of seconds. Theon wasn't sure how Dagmar known he and Asha had snuck off to Lordsport, but he arrived in the nick of time. Dagmar had lashed all three of the children for their negligence and carelessness, but they couldn't bring it upon themselves to care, they were just relieved to have been saved. To Dagmar's annoyance, Asha and Theon had laughed about the incident all the way back to Pyke.
Asha was probably the main reason for his love of his country. The two were as thick as thieves and it was rare that you would find one without the other. Asha had been his mirror and he wasn't prepared to think about what life would be like without her. Their father largely ignored them, too focused on their older brothers to care about the playful and sly deeds the two youngest Greyjoy siblings frequently found themselves in. Theon thought back to the time when the two were playing with axes with each other. Asha had placed an apple on Theon's head in an attempt to show her younger brother how adept she had become with throwing axes. Initially Theon had been weary, but then he remembered that there wasn't a single person in the world he trusted more than his elder sister, so he obliged her. Theon closed his eyes and waited with baited breath. All he heard was whiff and slowly opened his eyes. He looked down to see the apple spilt in two. He beamed and looked to find Asha's eyes wide with fear. He didn't feel any pain so he wondered what had startled Asha so. He turned around to find his lady mother staring at the two hands on hips and seething in anger.
His lady mother rarely showed anger and she never yelled, but thinking back to the day that he and Asha had decided to throw axes at skulls he remembered her scolding them something fierce. Asha had assured their mother that Theon was never in danger and that she had learned how to throw an axe from one of Victorian's crew members, Nute. On the Isles he was known as Nute the Barber, he had earned his nickname due to his ability to throw an axe so well that it was said he could shave a mans face with it. Lady Alannys however would hear none of it. She reminded the two that their uncle Urrigon had died from an infection cause by losing part of his hand in a finger dance with their other uncle, Aeron. Thoughts of his lady mother was another stark reminder of what he would be leaving behind. She had always been so kind and thoughtful that you'd be surprised that she was even Ironborn. Originally born on Harlaw and the sister to Rodrick the Reader, everyone on the Isles loved her. She was even known to warm his lord father's cold temperament. She would know be losing all three of her sons due this foolhardy and ill-fated rebellion. Rodrick had been slain on Seaguard by Ser Jason Mallister when he led a frontal assault of the town; a town that was built to protect the mainland from us and Maron had been cut down by the Kingslayer when Robert Baratheon and his army of Greenlanders descended upon his home. Now Theon too would be leaving and though it wasn't in death he still knew she would grieve as if it were. His heart ached to see his mother in such pain. He had never seen his mother in such a state and it was at that moment that Theon knew. He hated his father.
"I'm going to miss you fiercely big sister," Theon told Asha with tears in his eyes as he packed the last of his things and prepared to leave for the cold and frigid north. "Hush now, baby brother we will see each other again. You must show strength. Don't let father see you with those tears." "The Drowned God take father!" I shouted. "He is the reason for all this! Where was his strength when Robert Baratheon nearly tore down these walls? He did nothing! He bent the knee after he let our country be ravaged by Greenlanders." I cried angrily. "Theon were outnumbered ten to one. There wasn't much hope for victory." "A stupid rebellion then." Asha paused as she saw my anger and contemplated her next words. "Theon we mustn't let the land dwellers turn us against each other." She counseled. We will already be separated my hundreds of leagues. We can't let them separate us in our hearts. The sun will shine on the Ironborn again, dear brother but now we must have patience." Theon relented and went in and gave his sister the tightest hug she had ever received and despite her previous statement the two both let the tears flow. This was how their father found them. "Let's go boy." He demanded and the two siblings quickly let go of each other and wiped their faces as their father watched them stone faced.
The ride to Lordsport had been quiet. Theon was joined by Asha and Dagmar as well as his mother and father. He soon spotted the ship that he would be leaving on in the harbor with Ned Stark waiting patiently on it. As he dismounted his horse, Dagmar was the first to speak to him. "Remember who you are Theon Stormborn. They may take you out of the Isles, but they can never take the Isles out of you." Dagmar then pulled Theon into a rough embrace and retreated back to his horse. Theon was sure he saw a tear come from the eye of his surrogate uncle, but before he could lament on the fact he was be approached by his mother. Her eyes were trimmed with red and she looked as though hadn't slept in days. "My sweet boy." She started as she gently cupped his face. "You are so brave, I knew it from the moment that you were brought into this world. The violent storm that coincided with your birth did nothing to startle you and now I need you to be the bravest that you have ever been for you are now the hope of our people. Remember your customs and courtesies in the North and always be respectful to the Lord and Lady Stark. Things will be much different than what you are accustomed to, my child." With that she kissed him on his forehead as Theon hugged her around the waist. "I expect frequent letters from you Theon. Do you understand?" "Yes mother," I said solemnly. "Okay, now go speak with your father."
Theon walked over to this his father with all the emotional strength he could muster. His father peered down at him. "Do you understand why I bent the knee, boy?" He asked. Theon thought for a minute. "Because you are a coward who wanted to save face for your blunder?" "The battle was lost and the needs of many outweigh than the wants of a few. It was the only option." Theon stated. His father nodded. "No man has ever died from bending his knee. He who kneels may rise again, blade in hand. He who will not kneel stays dead, stiff legs and all." Theon was sure that his father had been trying to convince himself of that fact. "Don't the Wolves soften you up and convert you over to their ways. You are Ironborn!" Without so much as another word his father turned on a heel and departed. Theon looked over to Asha with whom he had already shared his goodbye and the pair shared a simple nod. Theon then felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Lord Stark had moved over to him. "Are you already to go, Theon?" Lord Stark asked gently. "I am my Lord." With one last parting look at his family Theon turned with his chest puffed out and head held high as he boarded Ned Stark's ship. "What is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger. The Iron Islands will rise again. I will make sure of it. I swear it by the Drowned God."
