The White Wolf

by BIGT707

Jon Snow leads the free folk to reclaim the North as the King beyond the wall holding the duty of a Night's Watch first ranger guarding the realms of men. Jon Yara Euron and Moqorro sail west in search of Arya. In King's Landing houses of Westeros gather to discuss the future of their countries and kingdoms as a whole. Tyrion tells the Field of Fire story during Aegon's conquest.

7. Blood Ties

"Your grace, I would suggest waiting until the small council in King's Landing—"

Yara slammed her hands on the table quieting the first defender and the council huddled at the war table, "the six kingdoms won't be any help to us, they have their own matters to attend." Yara met her council's gaze studying each and every one potentially seeing some for the final time, "the noble houses are caravanning with our northern allies on the King's Road. They will send word a weeks journey from the capital's convocation. The kingdoms are in parlay, I trust in our evacuations to the Riverlands. Our main houses Blacktyde, Drumm, Goodbrother, Greyiron, Hoave, Merlyn, Stonehouse, Sunderly, Tawney and Wynch all left joining the North, Vale, and Riverland caravan currently held in Riverrun."

A tall red bearded warrior crossed his arms turning to his queen, "that's good we won't put most of our people in danger should worst case come to pass. What do we do then your grace, our forces can't handle a full scale attack, we're still recovering from our lost resources. Much wasn't left in the wake of your uncles rule as king, our resources and siege weapons are very limited." Bluetooth said causing the advisors and lords to bow their heads.

"Five of our ships sailed on a diplomatic mission. The wreckage washed on the Westerlands before they could reach the sand country, it's all too reminiscent of the attack two decades ago." A raven haired Tristifer Botley marking an x within a hundred mile radius calculating the enemies position. "We still don't know who're behind these attacks your grace nor who lays responsible."

Yara grimaced, "I have a hunch, but it couldn't be..." She placed her hands on her sides, "whoever it is doesn't matter, our islands aren't protected by the mainland. The incoming hostiles will take free reign over our lands assuming their arriving from the south."

"Perhaps," Ser Harras Harlaw said stepping to the table, "they're planning to draw a line here." He ran his hand across the Pyke, "whoever it is attacking demonstrated clearly they aren't hiding their intentions. The enemy is coming directly here for the Salt Throne."

Shouting broke out across the war room causing Yara to whistle rubbing her temples soothingly, "I have a contingency none of you least our enemies has any prior notion about." Questioning eyes found the Pyke ruler awaiting her explanation, "I managed to find allies willing to help us fight our invaders."

"Who is it your grace?" Harras asked.

"The Queen in the North Sansa Stark sent the warden and two thousand men to assist guarding our isles."

"Your grace, you kept this from us? We should have been notified—"

"No Bluetooth, you should not have." Yara said returning her gaze among the table, "there's a traitor among us." The Ironmen steeled looking to one another hearing their queen's word, "their isn't any possible way for our enemies to have prior knowledge of our route to Dorne. It matters not right now we must prepare for the Warden's arrival, all will revealed after the upcoming battle, now is the time to prepare. Make sure the garrisons are sailing off the coastlines in the next hour." Yara dismissed the meeting sending everyone toward the doors, "not your Harras." She said keeping her attention on the map.

The Greyshield Lord patiently watched the others leave the room coming to stand beside his cousin. "my queen."

"You're the only one I can trust at the moment Harras. Ever since the incident to our diplomats I had to avoid an international conflict with the new ruler of Dorne and prep the islands for war." Yara offered a slight smile, "at least I have you, you're practically the only family I have left."

Harras clasped a hand on her shoulder, " I was grateful to your father for letting me stay here among you and your brothers. They would all be proud of you, especially Rodrick."

She recalled their early days growing up on the Pyke and Ten Towers castles, "you two were foolish to challenge uncle Victorian to sword fights."

Harras chuckled running a hand over his long face, "I remember well. You would patch our wounds while scolding the hell out of us."

Yara folded her arms adorning a smirk, "you were both idiots, but those were some of the best times in my life."

"I can only say I'm sorry again for not being there for you and Theon, I had no idea—"

"No need to throw blame to yourself Harras, I made you swear to protect the Iron Islands as it's first shield and you have your uncle at the Ten Towers to look after."

"Our uncle Rodrick will be fine. What I let happen to you guys," Harras sighed heavily settling his hands on the table, "especially Theon, he deserved much than what the Bolton bastard did to him."

Yara smiled fondly staring at the horizon out the castle balcony, "Theon did deserve better. I admit there were times I wished you were born my brother instead. When he refused to leave that bastard's dungeon believing me a trick, I thought him dead. When he abandoned me on Black Wind I vowed to never forgive him."

"What changed your mind?"

"He came back for me in King's Landing. I wanted to kill him for after untying me, however he was different. Despite everything he lost, my brother returned a man belonging to a home." Yara warmly smiled remembering the last time she saw Theon telling him to fight for the Starks—His true family. I suppose we have Jon Snow to thanks for that."

The Grey Garden knight arched a brow, "Jon Snow? The 998th Lord Commander of the Nights Watch and Queenslayer? He was sent to the wall as a criminal. What does—Don't tell me he's the newly appointed North warden you mentioned," Harras crossed his his arms furrowing his features, "I understand why we weren't informed, you wanted to use him as our element of surprise, though based off his reputation subtly isn't a word used to describe him."

"No it's not, the Northern Warden doesn't need to be subtle, he's quite the opposite in fact." Yara pointed to Lordsport's harbor, "he will be in charge of our castle's defense, the enemy is likely to make a strong attempt to seize it."

"His forces have no familiarity with our own geography, it could be trouble for their garrisons."

"I won't have anything to worry about since you'll be the one leading the charge alongside our northern allies."

Harras laughed breaking his usual stoic nature, "It was too good to be true you kept me here because you actually enjoyed my company—" he grunted from the sudden strike to his shoulder.

"You're far too rough on yourself. I trust you with my life. You were one of my three champions during the Kingsmoot and my fiercest supporter."

"I'm honored as always my queen, you can count on me." He followed her markings eyeing the specific lines drawn through the projected enemy fleet. "What will you do then?"

Yara smirked meeting his gaze, "I'll be subtle."

"Your grace, Lord Harlaw. The northern fleet is approaching." The maester Wendamyr said holding the door open for the pair as they quickly left the war room.

The Stark fleet stormed through the breaking waves rising the high tides turning most stomachs on board. The ships sailed beneath Pyke's serene rock archways serving as the foundation for the castle. Young soldiers stood in awe of the aging structure having only heard stories of the Iron Islands. The vessels prepped to disembark on Lordsport only a few miles away. "Mister Stark, I don't feel so good." A young soldier leaned over the railing puking the breakfast they'd eaten at their brief pit stop on Iron Holt.

"Jon's fine kid." The warden said patting his armored back, "better to get it out now before the battle."

"There's the harbor warden, don't suppose they brought the welcoming wagon." The tall brunette lieutenant said strapping his sword belt to his waist ordering the others to do the same.

"Let's hope so lieutenant." The Northern army scrambled preparing for the Pyke Queen's royal reception at the docks.

Yara stood at the council's front accompanied by Harras Harlaw of House Harlaw, Tristifer Botley Lord of Lordsport, Qarl the maid sworn to house Greyjoy along with his sailor companions Skyte and Uller. Gylbert Farwynd Lord of House Farwynd of the Lonely Night followed by his three sons Gyles, Ygon, and Yohn. Finally there was Erick Ironmaker, Lord Steward of the Pyke and House Ironmaker, a scarred old man born a bastard brought his three grandsons Urek, Thormor, and Dagon who stood proudly behind him.

The allied forces docked in the large harbor meeting the Ironborn forces, "the Warden of the North Jon Snow, you've come a long way from being a ranger in the Night's Watch."

Jon smirked, "I'm still a ranger don't let the fancy armor fool you. It's good to finally meet you in person queen of the Salt Throne Yara Greyjoy." He reached out returning her handshake firmly.

"Are you always this humble?" She asked hiding rare amusement.

"Only when I'm not in a battle." He replied causing her smirk to grow. Jon turned toward the salt council, "appreciate your hospitality Lord Ironmaker supplying our forces with food and shelter until the storms passed last night."

Erick and his grandson bowed slightly, "it was an honor hosting your army. We aren't a large noble house but we take pride providing care for our allies. We're lucky there was an abundance stockpiled since the island's population dwindled from due to the festival in a King's Landing."

"You nourished my forces, they nor I will forget it anytime soon."

The white haired man nodded throwing his oversized oak sledgehammer, "it's our pleasure, your grace, your father was an honorable man after all, we think much the same of you."

Yara stood aside leaning on a messy brunette's shoulder glancing into his large eyes. Based on the way they awkwardly held and shifted past one another Jon assumed they have a history. "Jon Snow I'd like you to meet Tristifer Botley, the lord of this port town."

"Your reputation proceeds you Lord Snow. Anything you need from Lordsport it's yours. There are no citizens here." Tristifer said.

"I'll take you up on that, we need all the space and supplies you can provide. Just tell me where I need to be your grace, the northern army is at your service." He said turning to Yara.

"I'm starting to like you already Lord Snow, if you'll follow me." She halted a moment placing a hand on Tristifer's shoulder, "station our units here I'll return shortly." The Greyjoy forces spread on the dock gathering roughly a quarter of the allied military preparing Lordsport's defense. "Is the Iron Islands everything you hoped it would be Lord Snow? Our lands are not known in Westeros for sightseeing." Yara said resuming her walk falling in line with Jon's strides.

"The islands exceeded my expectations and your people are hospitable, far from the sea raiders most of Westeros make you out to be."

"I could say the same for the North. Not only are you now the warden, you also serve as a ranger and considered the king beyond the wall to the free folk. I'd love to hear of your exploits after all this." Yara said leading her army beside Jon descending the port steps to Pyke's beach guarding the only entrance to the fortress.

Jon chuckled shaking his head, "you wouldn't believe me even if I told you." He grew stern once more bringing up his real purpose of being before her, "I'm sure you know I need your help."

"Of course Sansa Stark notified me about her sister's disappearance asking if she stopped by here sometime ago. You have my word, after we share victory I promise to do everything I can in my power to assist you."

"Good, I need all the help I can get." The duo strolled in silence staring toward the thunderous waves crashing on the beach.

Yara glanced at the Jon as he stared toward the horizon focusing on his missing cousin, she was really on his mind, "the Queen in the North has provided you with fancy armor and an army, I trust she's doing all right then?"

"She is." Yara didn't miss the warm smile encompassing his features contrasting his usual broody nature. "Everything aside I'd rather be here than King's Landing."

Yara halted stepping off the last stair, "that's something we can wholeheartedly agree on Lord Snow, I'm not fond of the capital's pig shit stench." She walked a few feet in front of the allied forces gesturing to the land before them, "welcome to Pyke's finest beach. It doesn't compete with the Reach or Westerlands however it will make due for the upcoming battle."

"I can't think of a better place, any idea when they'll arrive?"

"No it could be at anytime now, stay alert." Yara stepped to the ranger's side locking gazes, "you sure your army has everything it needs. If they need more rest I would understand. Its been a long journey from Winterfell and your army is young."

"Aye we're inexperienced, though we don't lack spirit, we'll fight till our last breath." Jon adjusted his gloves staring at the southern horizon awaiting the enemies emergence. "Sansa met Dunstan Drumm during her stay in King's Landing, he was kind enough to open his doors to our forces to receive their well deserved rest leaving siege weapons in exchange for their absence."

Yara smirked crossing her arms, "I see now. I'm glad both of you thought ahead, you're really determined to see your cousin again."

"I'll do whatever it takes to bring her back safely."

The captain smiled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "he came back for me and returned to Winterfell because of you." She said earning Jon's attention. "In the end, he found his place among your family. For the longest time I thought my brother a coward, dead to me. After he had rescued me he told me your words to him; you told him there wasn't a choice. He was a Stark and a Greyjoy, that your father resides in him too. I think it was a relief for him that he wasn't Balon's son, it put him at peace."

Jon couldn't contain a smile staring up at the gray sky recalling his forgiveness toward Theon in their last meaningful conversation on Dragonstone. "He made mistakes as we all have. For the longest time I blamed him for my family's death. I was convinced had he stayed in Winterfell Robb would have won the Five King War and everyone would be alive." Jon released an unhumorous chuckle "I was fooling myself looking for someone else to. blame, had he stayed his fate would've been the same. The fault was mine, I kept my oath rather than marching to fight beside my brother Robb."

Yara sighed softly standing beside him, "Theon believed you would've killed him after what happened to Sansa." She narrowed her gaze to the waves crashing against the dampened sand, "that monster Ramsay Bolton hurt them both badly...I didn't realize the extent of the damage until he left me on a burning ship with a knife at my throat...In some ways I understood it..." she signed remembering the fear spread across Theon's features reverting him into Reek the very physical manifestation of his trauma.

"Now you know why I'm so adamant to find Arya, even if everyone keeps telling me it's hopeless. I intend to never let anyone hurt my family like that again."

Yara could sense a liar and fraud a mile away, nothing got past her. Growing up on the islands forced her with constant run ins from sailors and pirates sailing into port telling of their daring grandeur exploits around the world. The man beside her told nothing of his time in Westeros or beyond the wall. Based on his calm demeanor and stance she could tell everything he said was truth, he wouldn't be in this position earning Sansa's trust if he were dishonest, "you've been in this position before haven't you? Waiting patiently for enemies to arrive for battle."

"More than I'd like."

It came a relief he wasn't a heartless killer who sought glory on the battlefield, he was a ranger after all. Rather he respected the battlefield fully aware in war skill didn't matter, the best he could do is use preparation and opportunity to make his own luck. Yara stepped closer to respond only to be halted by Tristifer breaking through the army lines leaning in his queen's ear, "does your offer still stand? Seems expected company is arriving on schedule."

Jon nodded, "the ally forces are yours to command, take as many soldiers as you need." The lone ranger tightened his wrist straps noticing the salt council depart the opposite direction. "Yara Greyjoy." He called halting her steps staring out to sea, "what's your dream for your people?"

"My desire for the Iron Islands is to build the largest fleet in Ironborn history restoring us to former glory!" The Ironborn roared to life raising their weapons surprising their allies.

"And what do you plan on doing with the largest fleet in Westeros?"

"I plan to do what I always have, to defend the Iron Islands till our dying day. The Iron born shall sail the seas free again!" The Ironborn hollered again even louder than before earning a smirk from Jon.

"During our stay at House Drumm I noticed all your forestry had been cleared around the fortress and was informed every great tree on the Old Wyk are gone, you need lumber, lots of it. We'll discuss a trade afterwards I think you'll approve."

"I look forward to hearing it Jon Snow. Ironborn let's fuck us some unlucky invaders who decided to pay us a visit." A majority of the allied army followed Jon while a smaller force accompanied Yara at her request.

Jon marched through allied soldiers leading notable Ironborn; Harras Harlaw, the Ironmakers, and the Farwynds. Well over thousand soldiers paraded among the beach spreading in formation. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier, names Harras. Harras Harlaw. My house the Ten Towers resides half a days sail east." The knight said offering a hand.

Jon returned the friendly gesture, "Jon Snow. Haven't heard of Harlaw, are you lord of your house?"

"No I'm the lord of Greygarden, my father Rodrick is the lord, he traveled to King's Landing with the noble houses joining the North. He left his treasured library behind surprisingly, it's all he cares about." Harras faced the ranger meeting his fierce gaze, he would be lying to say his reputation proceeded him.

"For passing on leaving to the capital you're either pretty damn dumb or eager for a battle. I'm going to guess it's the latter based on the sword you're carrying." Jon said.

Harras lifted the black blade out its scabbard, "Ah yes Nightfall, a fine Valyrian sword. It was passed down to House Harlaw from Dalton after he scavenged it off a dead pirate during the rule of Viserys I Targaryen."

"Wish I could say the same," Longclaw gleams emerging out its sheath, "my first lord commander Jeor Mormont passed his ancestral sword down to me before he died. I look forward to fighting you should we make it through this."

"I was about to suggest the same. We've heard stories you're some unkillable god and resurrected by a witch. Any of that true?"

"The latter is true. I'm not immortal, no one is. I will die someday however it will have to wait until I bring my family back."

"That's if you don't die in our duel."

Jon grinned slightly unnerving the knight, "I expected nothing less since you're carrying a sword of that caliber, this day couldn't get any better." Harras couldn't place a finger on the new warden, he was unlike anyone he came across in Westeros.

Harras frowned, "don't mean to shit on your parade. I'm curious why you're really here." He said standing meters from Jon as he settled on a boulder staring past the waves.

"Regardless of your belief I didn't come here because I wanted help finding my cousin. I was willing to do that alone and still am. I'm here because Theon was once told me Yara was the most important person to him. If she was important to him, she's important to me. I'm the one still living, even if it takes some time off getting to Arya who the hell am I to deny a chance to defend my brother's birth home and family?"

"You're more honorable than most, Theon Greyjoy is dead. Most men I know wouldn't bat an eye over the death of their kin, an unrelated one who acted upon crimes against the very family that raised him."

Jon pulled a whetstone beneath his cloak drawing Longclaw sharpening the Valyrian blade. "Dead or not we fight for those who fought for us or we do a disservice to them and their memory. It isn't my place to judge someone's sins, I've had my fair share."

"You have my respect ranger, every time I try convincing myself your just a lord I forget about your years of service beyond the wall, not to mention your a goddamn war—"

"Don't say it."

"Horseshit you're not, at least some people seem to think so. The lady of Winterfell and the northern lords approve, they understood your sacrifices for the Stark family. It's the common people's trust who don't understand the politics trust you need to earn back. I don't understand is why the Queen in the North puts so much faith in you. You're a queenslayer and a criminal to the crown, for all anyone knew you could've lost your mind up there coming back a different person. If it were me I would've left you where you were." Harras couldn't fathom what he looked like far beyond the wall becoming an isolated animal in the wilderness. If he came across the ranger in his natural element up north he would concede the fight.

Jon didn't necessarily disagree, he would've left himself beyond the wall too if it were up to him. He was almost too far gone staying in the winter abyss where hope died faster than sunlight. "This is going to sound like I stole something from some book in your father's library. You probably won't understand; family believes in each other no matter what, it's worth fighting for, always."

Harras smirked in turn, "you're certainly right about one thing. I wouldn't understand a familial concept such as that. The closest people I had growing up were the Greyjoys. It didn't last long after Balon sent his eldest boys into Blackwater Bay sealing their fates. Yara is the closest person to me at the moment, I will fight till my dying breath."

"Are you two involved?"

"No we're cousins, it wouldn't technically be wrong by our standards however their would be turubulence from the Iron lords." Harras leaned on a nearby boulder staring at the usual overcast, "come to think of it we touched each other and did some weird shit as children."

Jon furrowed his brows pinching the bridge of his nose, "forget I said anything." That wasn't the answer he was hoping for.

"Ah you want to marry our queen? If that's the case you'll be short no competition."

Jon grunted, "I need time alone before the battle best prepare your forces."

"Will do ranger." Harras stood skipping a stone across the waves, "what about the northern forces? You don't plan to prepare?"

"We had nothing but prep time on the way over the northern army is ready for anything." Jon said as the lord gave an approving nod leaving him to his musings.

The Iron Islands Pyke fortress had the extreme disadvantage being exposed to land invaders clearly meant for sea defenses. Perhaps there wasn't a need to defend the place for the entire duration despite the easy access because the unpredictable sea conditions and notorious stormy weather. No Westerosi army would attack based off Harras's answer he could rule out a jealous ex lover wanting to take revenge. The culprit had to be someone who was capable of sailing an Armada around Westeros, at least Dorne or even possibly further. "If it was rebelling Ironborn Yara would've alerted her people, there's no telling who the enemy is." He couldn't stand the prospect of fighting an enemy there wasn't any preconceived notions about, his guess was as good as anyones. Jon stood at the waves emerging beneath the surface crashing to the beach pooling around his boots. He shut his eyes tightly releasing a deep sigh.

"Jon..."

The ranger snapped his eyes open facing the familiar voice, "you're not really here."

A small smile came over the slightly shorter man's features as the wind blew the golden locks off his face revealing green eyes, "suppose not, though I think part of me always remained here." Theon said coming to stand next to Jon.

Jon glanced at his brother wearily unsure of what he was seeing, "I never really got to say goodbye to any of you. Father, Robb, Lady Stark, Rickon, and you."

Theon's smile faded, "I don't deserve to be mentioned in the same breath." He bowed his head repressing fresh tears, "I failed our family Jon, all I've done—"

Jon placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "you're a good man Theon, even after everything you chose to come back to fight for us—the Starks. You'll always be one of us to me, I know Sansa feels the same way."

Theon glanced at the horizon letting hot tears slide down his cheeks, he quickly wiped them away unable to show weakness in front of the man he admired, "Sansa..." Theon turned away as Jon removed his hand, "I-I was there when she first arrived back at Winterfell, I gave her away as father's ward." Theon's tears dampened the sand beneath him. "She was so beautiful that night...He made me watch the consummation, I was too much a coward to stop it."

Jon examined his ripped gloves not realizing he shredded them hearing Theon's words. He tossed them off watching them float away in the currents keeping his attention on the far away material, " I think about killing that bastard every night, different way each time. Burning, drowning, strangulation, hanging, stabbing, maiming, decapitation, beating him to death with my fists." Theon stared in awe wiping away the trail of tears never hearing Jon speak like this, "I know none of that would change what he did to you both. Still I would do all that because of what he did even if it didn't fix anything."

"I'm as responsible for not intervening. I wouldn't have blamed you for killing me at Dragonstone when we reunited, it was all my fault."

Jon turned to the youngest Greyjoy, "I wasn't going to kill you...I can't thank you enough," Jon met Theon's gaze, "it was a miracle she reached Castle Black, I don't know what would've happened if—"

"I would've been dead. I swear I would've taken her to the wall even if it got me killed; I knew you'd protect her better than I ever could. I had to—"

"Come home." Jon crossed his arms glancing at the former Winterfell ward, "you're a Greyjoy and a Stark as I'm a Stark and Targaryen. No matter how much we try we can't run from who we are or where we originate, we'll always be both."

Theon couldn't help smile staring at his iron armor and the wolf pinned to the under cloth. "You still think I'm wrong but you make the right decisions, Jon more than most in Westeros." He sighed offering a smirk Jon hadn't witnessed since their time in Winterfell, "father and Robb would be proud if they were here. I've really always looked up to you. I didn't want your life as a bastard yet I wished to be strong as you Jon."

Jon was thankful to see his brother's presence, "truthfully I couldn't have gone through what you did and found my way out of the abyss. You don't need to be strong like Robb nor me. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for Theon."

"How do you know?"

"Because only the strong choose how they die. I've seen and knew too many people including myself to know any different, especially in this world."

Theon shed a final tear as the brothers watched the rhythmic waves crash the reef, "remember when we were all kids playing Lords and Ladies. You always wanted to be the knight rescuing the damsel in distress."

"Aye you and Robb would always choose to be lords, someone had to do it." Jon chuckled turning to Theon, "sometimes I wish we could go back to those days, I was a fool to think they could've lasted forever."

"I can't thank you enough for comin here. Winterfell is your home, not the Pyke it means everything—"

"There's no need to say thank you. I would've protected your home and Yara, they're important to you and are to me."

Theon released a laugh staring up at the sun rays beaming through the overcast engulfing the youngest Greyjoy, "you're the real hero Jon, you've always been."

Jon shook his head, "I'm not." The ranger glanced at Yara's fleet sailing out to harbor, "If I asked you something would you answer hon—" Jon's eyes widened as the sun disappeared once more consumed by the fog. "Theon...Don't leave brother..." Horns and trumpets sounded signaling the battle's beginning as Jon witnessed ships approaching from the south. The battle for the Iron Islands was set to begin."

The Iron Victory sails displayed a gold kraken sigil on a black a flag proudly driving toward the northern allies gathered on Pyke's shore waiting for their appearance. Exiled Ironborn clamored on deck raising their weapons. The war cries were silent drowned by the waves slamming into the hull and wind whipping the sails.

"Well well, it's as you predicted priest, gray skies, strong winds, and no rain. Perhaps your visions aren't shrouded as others in the red god's faith." Victarion said leaning over the railing examining his armored foes from the mainland, the wizard's prediction didn't foresee this.

"Yee of so little faith, you forget what else I said lord captain? Behind comes the tiger, ahead waits the—"

"Dragon. I recall your words clearly wizard." He said keeping his attention trained on the other ships traveling in his fleet: Fingerdancer, Grief, Sparrowhawk, Lamentation, Karaken's Kiss, and Iron Wing.

"You heard your captain! Once we retake the Pyke castle, we pursue that bitch who calls herself the Salt Queen. Fight till your last breath, kill them all, show no mercy!" Moqorro said running a hand through his white lion mane hair watching the forces descend on the longboats heading ashore. The dozen ships surrounded Pyke's southern shore imploring the same countermeasures as cannon fire flared off the bursting a rowboat to pieces.

The Iron Victory's captain Victarion descended the bridge ship strapping the giant battle axe to his back, "you waste your wind on meaningless words sorcerer, the only good wind is one that fills my sails." He said towering half a foot over the six foot pitch black skinned man adorning yellow and orange flames tattooed across his cheeks and forehead.

"The captain of the Ghiscari Dawn repeated Daenerys Targaryen was dead, my flames tell me differently not long after we entered the Westerosi sea." Victarion kept silent about the supposed unconfirmed visions choosing to believe the dragon queen was slayed and an imposter took her place as the rest of Essos outside Dragon Bay believed. "Still lord captain you lack faith in the red god even after his power saved your hand and guided you safely home." Moqorro's scarlet robes, sleeves, collars, and hems were embroidered with orange satin flames. His dragon staff towered over him sparking a green flame on the ship's deck sending soldiers over the railing at a faster pace. "Show them no mercy, prove your exemplary Ironborn heritage this day!"

"Don't speak of my customs or culture you know little shit about sorcerer. The Drowned God's will comes first no matter if your flames speak truth." Victarion examined his red and black scaled hand layering in cracks resembling a limb dipped in molten lava hardening the layered skin. "You are well and good wizard however blood and steel win wars, magic will do nothing here."

"As you say it is lord captain." Moqorro wouldn't dare insult Victarion's intelligence after a sailor laughed at him for foolishly declaring he'd sail across the Dothraki Sea also known as the 'Great Grass Sea.' It was a pretty sight watching the sailor bludgeoned to a pulp before being strangled brutally helplessly begging others as they watched him die fearing the lord captain's unbridled rage. "There are more than Ironborn here, what do you think of the Northern players?"

"It matters not who awaits, the time in nearly here to take the Salt Throne, nothing more or less." A tan raven haired beauty emerged from the captain's quarters clutching an iron helmet forged resembling a miniature kraken. "There you are woman," Victarion noted Moqorro's disapproving stare as she released a hiss in his direction. "Leave us wizard." She held no tongue thanks to Euron. The woman spoke Ghiscari, often described by foreigners as an 'ugly and unpleasant language.' Victarion placed his hands over hers taking the armor, "do not worry this will be over soon my sweet." Her lips curved into a smile as she hugged him tightly burying her face in his plated chest. His smoky eyes met her brown ones as they studied each other, "I swear by the my god and yours, you will be named a highborn lady at my side after we retake this land." She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek assisting the helmet placing, "this will be over soon love, keep a watch for the sorcerer." Victarion stepped from the railing propelling the longboat toward the shore.

Victarion held a small smirk behind the helmet relishing the familiar war sounds filling the air. The ragged breathing of his tongueless warriors, the cannon fire crashing through waves breaking ships and castles apart, the scampering of enemy forces. He was a storm invading the serene calm knowing the true war would officially start by spilling first blood. Rowing oars snapped nearly tipping the boat overboard. In one swift movement wave the attacking longboats flipped submerging under the water's murky surface.

The Pyke defensive armies halted staring out at the dozen ships returning the fortress's cannon fire. Jon stood at the forefront turning to the army as the beach's sky darkened, "shields up!" Word spread quickly as allied shields held to the sky as flaming arrows bombarded them clanking off the metal surrounded the army. Cannon fire blasted through the beach forcing the allied forces to leave their position heading in direct conflict to the first emerging sea raiders climbing out the waves running for their position. Jon was the first to break from formation throwing the shield aside leading others to follow. He sidestepped a wild sword swing knocking the grunt unconscious using the white wolf hilt keeping his momentum forward charging headfirst into the hundreds of enemies making their presence known. He slashed through two grunt's blades evading another aiming for his back slicing the man's stomach open before he could get close decorating the sand in blood.

Battle had become second nature to him by now, cutting through hordes of enemies out to take their head off for their own reasons. This felt the same as rest with the exception of the Ironborn silence; no war chants, no shouts of pride or agony, this was too out of the ordinary. Every battle had a core, a purpose. The enemies before him wasn't clear, they held no focus or ulterior goal. They fought bravely for someone they believed in, that much was evident yet it didn't get him any closer to a feeling in his gut. Jon blocked a blade easily flipping an enslaved over his shoulder sending him tumbling into a Stark's soldier's blade.

'Something's not right.' Jon sliced through an Ironborn's chain lodging the rusty hook in his comrade's throat killing instantly. He rolled past a grunt's spear driving Longclaw through his gut before kicking him off the sword. "Keep moving toward the beach!" Jon shouted as the soldiers passed him advancing to the enslaved pouring out the sea.

Jon sprinted west along the beach outpacing the cannon fire smashing the formation apart killing off soldiers by the dozen. He slashed through stragglers breaking through the Stark army as four enslaved blocked his path. The first missed losing as he was sliced open falling to all fours unable to move. Jon leapt off his back rising higher than the others cutting them down effortlessly as they fell clutching the bloody wounds, he missed their vital organs, "keep charging don't stop until they yield." Jon skimmed past his army noticing the enemies absent on the far west side of Pyke.

Erick, Urek, Thomar, and Domar Ironmaker, Glybert, Gyles, Ygon, and Yohn Farwynd, and Harras Harlaw gathered around the Southwest tip of Pyke staring at the lifeless bodies slain across the dunes. "This couldn't have been it...There should have more soldiers attacking the castle's hidden passageway." Erick said planting the large hammer in the sand. "Where's the rest of the bastards?!"

Harras surveyed the distant ships and invading army continue their conquest on the eastern shore attacking the fortress yet there still wasn't the sign he was hoping for. "This battle isn't over we need to focus assisting the island's main defense."

Yohn the youngest resembling his father the most stepped toward the pair of longboats, "if we use these we can commandeer one of these ships to stop the cannons. They're devastating our forces, we need to assist our queen's mission and win this battle!"

"Your son carries a heavy point he speaks truth, taking control of those ships to will change this battle." Erick said nodding in Gylbert's direction, "it seems we have a hero amongst us, the youthful flame burns bright in him." Gylbert and his sons smiled at their youngest proudly recognizing his progress.

Yohn returned his family's stare giving a usual toothy grin pulling the boat's front as the others went to help the young man. The longboat flew up overturning on Yohn pinning him beneath it crushing his sternum and cracking his knuckles snapping them at the joints. Yohn howled in pain as the boat lifted from the sand flying overhead directly into Glybert, Gyles, and Ygon. "Father!" Yohn coughed blood screaming at his deformed hands crawling to safety across the sand. Victarion Greyjoy burst through the waves marching toward the Ironborn lords once under his and Euron's rule now turned traitors.

"What's amatter boy? They didn't tell you in war the part where shit themselves when they die. Pick up your sword and face me." Victarion halted noticing the boy's condition, he might've overdone it. He wanted a worthy fight not broken soldiers barley clinging to life. The others froze witnessing Victarion hoist another rowboat hauling it toward the Ironmakers.

The boat splintered in half landing harmlessly in the dune. Jon raised Longclaw staring down the lord captain draped in black and gold armor remaining focused on his former allies. "Truly I'm honored you lot greet me. I seek a challenge to conquer the Salt Throne.

"You'll never be king of Ironborn, Yara is our Queen!" Dagon yelled gripping his sword as his feet refused to budge. The screams from Yohn increased in volume yet none made any move to help the young lad focusing on the enemy in front of them.

Victarion withdrew the double sided axe raising a shield. "Your queen isn't here, it's no matter I'll cut you rats down in order to rule the Islands." The warrior was pure Ironborn more than any of them displaying his sea raiding heritage arrogantly. "Where is your Ironborn pride? Are you still all standing there because you're scared to face me."

The Iron lords tensed unmoving to help a gasping Yohn who made it safely behind his family. "Don't worry about them." Jon said as Longclaw gained Victarion's undivided attention. "I'll give you more of a fight than you can handle."

Victarion recognized the great wolf symbol anywhere, anyone born in Westeros would notice the family's infamous sigil. The last he heard all the true male born Starks were dead. It didn't matter whoever stood in front of him, they were just another stepping stone to the overall conquest. Jon held a steady stance as Victorian leisurely marched toward him, "If you won't move then I'll seek you out!"

Victarion's battle axe clashed against Longclaw stalemating each other. Jon's weight flew under him as Victarion finished his devastating swing sending Jon crashing into the ship wreckage. The others remained shook at Victarion's display as he rushed Urek and Thomar knocking them aside using his shield slamming his axe pommel into Dagon's gut throwing him in a crumbling mess.

Harras leapt off the dune driving Nightfall against Victarion's shield. He remained unmoved by the fast strikes slamming his shield into Harras kicking the knight away. Victarion unwound the chain hooking it to Harras's armor, "get the fuck over here!" He yanked the younger man to him uppercutting Harras sending the knight crashing into the sand. Erick Ironmaker slammed his war hammer in Victarion's shield as he attempted to redraw his axe stumbling back for the first time. Victarion discarded the shield relieving himself of the weight kicking it against Ugon's chest downing him proceeding to backfist Gyles noticing the man ambush out of his peripheral.

Erick's war sledge strained against unable to hold the axe any longer as he bent a knee wheezing heavily ready to collapse at any moment. Gylbert's spear lunges into Victarion's shoulder forcing him to release the elder. Victarion chopped the spear chucking the remaineder at a charging Jon who evaded it blocking an axe swing sidestepping out of the devastating a second overhead strike that threatened to cut him cleanly in two. The moment the blade hit the ground he slashed through the lord captain's side before clashing against the axe once more being pushed back. Throughout the entire time he traveled North of Yoros and cast between Yellow City and Meereen and seas further south, he received only one significant wound. "A Valyrian sword will do you no good against me Stark!" Victorian boasted pointing directly at Jon raising his axe striking Longclaw unable to move due to Jon's parry turning the lord's momentum against him.

Yohn abruptly stopped his labored breathing laying still in his father's arms. Gylbert shook in anger clutching his youngest tighter, "bastard killed my boy, I'm going to rip his fucking head off." Victarion tossed the damaged plates aside dual wielding the broad sword and axe.

The attacking Iron lords fell unable to put a dent in Victarion's armor leaving Jon and Harras the sole combatants. Victarion pierced Harras's shoulder swinging the axe at Jon's face. The lord captain hadn't a chance to face the undefeated Robb Stark on the battlefield, it was a shame he was killed at a wedding of all places—He fucking hated Westerosi politics, it only attracted leaching rats. Whoever stood in front of him clearly denied the same policies far exceeding the expectations he set upon the ranger. Perhaps he didn't need to fight the former King of the North, the man he faced was far beyond that now. Victarion blocked Jon's piercing stab sending him in the other direction unable to break his stance. "I'm a kraken, unlike the wolf I don't release what my jaws grasp."

Victarion vanquished many enemies killing three hundred soldiers in a single battle laughing as fear overtook them before death. As tenacious as the Stark's strikes were dealing him heavy blows, Victorian snatched Longclaw in his charred hand raising his axe, "it's over Stark, join your family in hell." Victarion halted clutching his left side ripping open spraying blood onto the sand.

Jon tore Longclaw out the lava hand parrying Victarion's weakened axe grip slashing the chest plates putting a stop to his rampage. Victarion clutched at the wound unable to comprehend why his body failed him in his moment of triumph. "I never lost in single combat, how could I lose to you Stark?" The lord captain glanced at the wounded warriors steadily climbing to their feet watching his every move.

"You held out longer than I thought possible." Jon approached keeping Longclaw beside him. "Your left side has a lacerated kidney. I cut too shallow, I wasn't expecting your armor to hold up against Valyrian steel. Contrary to your belief, you defeated yourself. You also had your renal artery sliced, any formidable warrior would've bled out within a few minutes, even myself. The fact you fought at the same speed is an impressive feat, you're the strongest fighter I've faced—"

Victarion screamed sending the Iron lords reeling as he collapsed back onto a knee feeling his left side rip open further rendering him immobile, "So that's how it happened...That was a neat trick Stark." Victarion grasped the fresh blood spilling through the armor. He recalled the ranger's lethal strike coming the moment before he boasted to the Stark a Valyrian steel weapon would prove useless against him. He couldn't help let out a chuckle, "what now Stark? Go on do your duty, give me a warrior's death." Victarion glanced at Longclaw nearing his neck shutting his eyes.

"No," Victarion tore the helmet off hurling it into the dunes before meeting Jon's gaze, "not this time." Jon sheathed Longclaw staring at the fallen Greyjoy reminded of another, "I don't know what events bent your life out of shape making you believe in the Old Ironborn way. My father Ned Stark used to tell me and my brothers the story of your brother Balon's rebellion against King Robert. Your brothers fought proudly that day—"

"Spare me an Ironborn history lesson Stark, I know all too well what happened." The long black hair matted blew in the wind exposing Victarion's tired and scarred face. "I lost two brothers that day Rodrick and Maron...That was different, much different...Robert Baratheon was a hell of a warrior much more fierce a monster and worse king. Balon proved brave earning respect, uniting Ironborn. However he foolishly believed Westeros wouldn't support Robert as a usurper of the Targaryen rule. Even I know everyone hated the mad king, as crazy as he was dumb didn't have the kingsguard support in the end. How much stupider Balon was rebelling, to believe he could defeat Robert at sea." Moving at this point was futile, he wasn't going anywhere unassisted. "I'm sure Eddard Stark told you; him, King Robert, his brother Stannis, Paxter Redwyne, Barriston Selmy, and Tywin Lannister rallied together seizing our islands. Just an excuse for that bastard king to throw another victory tournament in his name to reunite the realms in a superficial manner." The mention of Baratheon and Lannisters brought vengeance to the forefront of his mind. Their father Quellon didn't stand a chance brokering for peace giving into mainland politics, a waste of time for Ironborn. He followed Balon to the end, a true sea raider, proud, fearless, quarrelsome. The man was everything to him until kneeling at the king's feet. "On your sail over you should've noticed the old keeps destruction. After Stannis alongside Paxter Redwyne's vast Arbor Fleet trapped our longships in the Straits of Fair Isle. We were at the Crown's mercy for glory. Stannis returned invading Great Wyk our largest. Barriston secured Shatterstone in the heart of the Old Wyk leaving Pyke for Robert."

"The day of the siege took thousands of lives when the royal forces stormed Lordsport razing everything in sight breaking through the fortress walls."

Victarion grasped at his side releasing a chilled breath frosting the air, "Maron that damn fool was buried under a tower, all the same I wish it were sometimes instead of my brother." The captain shook his head holding in a rare laugh, "I recall Thoros of Myr emerging first overpowering our meager land forces waving that fucking wildfire sword. Jorah Mormont of Bear Island stormed in second causing too much casualties on our end. After swearing fealty to the throne Stannis had advised his brother to behead Balon for treachery. Then something unexpected happened, Robert turned to the other men beside him asking his decision on the matter."

"Grant mercy on him your grace, no more men need to die." Eddard said humbly tucking his arms beneath the brown wolf furs.

Robert snorted turning swiftly to Ned, "he rebelled against the kingdoms, against the crown, against me Ned!"

Balon jolted upright nearly standing from his knees surprising his brothers "You cannot call me a traitor Greyjoys don't kneel to a Baratheon."

"I smashed your fleet broke your castles and burned your town. Yet here you are with your rebellious family and a head on your shoulders. My wife is going to bitch at me for not putting a spike on your heads displaying you for all to see in the capital." Robert said grinning at the sight of a fearful Greyjoy, nothing gave him more pride seeing a defeated man who didn't have the drive to win wars kneeling for forgiveness.

Ned left the Baratheon side approaching Balon standing beside him, "I don't know what would happen if I lost my sons, you lost enough today Balon."

Robert grunted waving a hand signaling Balon to rise, "since you kneeled swearing fealty I'll spare your life." Robert hated Greyjoys, he hated Balon, most importantly he hated defiance, there needed to be a way this would never happen again. No usurpers would steal the throne during his reign. One that started decorously, uniting the Seven Kingdoms fighting to make a name for themselves under him after his rebellion. This was a farce rebellion, farce treason, a mere reason to hold another victory festival under his name. "Still I can't trust Ironborn..." Robert placed a hand on his forehead massaging a temple, "to ensure you won't stupidly rebel against the crown again I'm going to kill your true born heir to make sure it won't come to that." With a simple wave a guard marched off to retrieve the boy from the upper castle.

"Your grace I beg of you, he's my last born son only the age of eight."

"And he's neither a squire nor soldier, I'd have no use for him as a cup bearer and no need for a ward, I plan to spend my time eat, drinking, and fucking." He said earning laughs from the room.

Victarion and Euron watched their older brother plead begging the king to spare his son. "Your grace." Ned Stark called silencing the laughs abruptly catching everyone's eye. "If I may make a formal request."

Robert grunted suppressing a smile, "not too formal I hope, spit it out Ned." The king didn't appreciate being upstaged by his old friend, he shook the thought of the men respecting honorable Eddard than him."

Ned didn't hesitate bowing slightly, "if it's alright with you your grace I'd like to foster Balon's youngest as a ward of Winterfell."

"The honorable Warden of the North Eddard Stark fostering a Greyjoy prisoner of war and bastard in his ancestral home—Blashemy." Stannis crossed his arms disapproving of the move, it would be easier to kill the boy and be done with it. Then again he would never kill his child much less harm them, it was a wonder how he held no sympathy for others aside Baratheon. A small smile etched over him standing beside the king ready to be crowned next in line keeping the Iron Throne in their family line.

"Very well the boy is yours. The traitorous rebel decides to rise up again, kill him." Robert placed a hand on Stannis's shoulder snatching a wine canteen in the other off a nearby servant chugging greedily leaving beside Stannis.

The North Warden approached the Greyjoy family making sure to look each in the eye, "you have my word on my honor as a Stark no harm will come to the boy."

Balon frowned pulling out Victarion and Euron's hold, "you swear on the same honor that brought a motherless bastard from the south into Winterfell."

Ned remained unmoved by Balon's words, "no matter what happens if you rebel again, your son will be safe, a son shouldn't have to pay for their father's sins." The Greyjoys didn't place mistrust in Starks as they had Baratheon, the wolves always held to their word aside from the recent dishonorable mishap causing division among the ranks, everyone had an opinion of Eddard Stark and most who searched hard enough found their answer—There wasn't any possible way the bastard was his even if he insisted to Robert himself time after time. Most tended to believe the notion he didn't abandon honor choosing to preserve, though none spoke of it.

"Lord Stark," Jorah Mormont entered standing beside a sandy blonde eight year old Theon Greyjoy, "Lord Balon's last remaining son."

"Father—"

"Send him away, I don't need to see the boy who was my son. I shall take another wife and she will boar me another." Balon waved a hand dismissively turning away from the king's forces gathering in the hall.

"Father don't let them take me!"

"Silence! You're not my son anymore. You're a northern hostage, a Stark nor a Greyjoy. Away from me out with you!"

Theon escaped Jorah's hold before Thoros scooped him up before he could reach his family. His frantic green eyes found his families standing on the other side of the hall standing idle, "uncle Euron, uncle Victarion, I don't want to go to the North, I want to be an Ironborn as you are."

"Sorry little Theon, your dear old dad lost the war. This is his price to pay for his failure." Euron said standing beside Victarion folding his arms.

"Be strong Theon, you're an Ironborn for life. We do not sow."

Theon calmed as Ned placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and Thoros released his hold taking a place by Jorah Mormont and Ser Barriston. "I know the North isn't your home however you'll come to see it as yours, I promise it's a fine place to live weather aside. Tell me do you like to shoot arrows and horseback ride?"

"Y-yes sir, I've never ridden a horse before."

Lord Stark warmly smiled holding in a laugh, "Good good." He lead Theon past the royal guards away from Balon, "I have two sons at home, I trust you'll fit right in."

"Think they'll like me?" He asked staring near his feet.

"You'll be brothers." Ned smiled once more being trailed by Jorah, Thoros of Myr, and Paxter left leaving Ser Barriston behind as he sought an audience with Balon's troublemaking brothers.

"You're fortunate Lord Eddard Stark is as honorable as they say." The aging knight boasted the Baratheon black stag Kingsgaurd armor proudly, "I trust you will keep to your rebellions civil for the foreseeable future or I fear the Ironborn will cease existence."

"What about the dragon girl and her brother? The Targaryens aren't dead, the king doesn't concern himself with them? We'll all cease to exist in the end if they manage to resurrect the dragons." Euron said.

"As far as the king is concerned the Targaryens are dead having no allies nor any true place to call home. Tywin Lannister believes they'll be swallowed whole by the rigorous Dothraki Sea in search of an army in the upcoming years."

Euron grinned studying the legendary knight who was rumored to stand on even ground and in some ways surpassed the 'Sword of the Morning' Ser Arthur Dayne of House Dawn. "You sound as if you were her advisor kingsgaurd, then again you were knighted by the mad king's father Jaehaerys II Targaryen. I wouldn't mind going over there bedding the bitch myself had we won this rebellion. For now Ironborn stays Ironborn."

"You're taking the longships? No use asking about supplies, food, you stripped everything except our name."

Barriston stood in front of the brothers gripping the golden sword belt, "your lives are worth something. Your nephew's life means something, so does the standing of the Pyke. If Stannis had it his way this place would be a pile of rubble." Ser Barriston took his helmet from the table preparing to depart snatching an apple, "I'm only here to tell you both to stop your crusades of tomorrow. The crown's best hope is in ten years after you reinforce the Iron Fleet Theon will be returned and build your name through peace." He said tossing the half eaten apple striding toward the remaining forces.

"You'd be foolish to think we won't finish what the kingdoms started, "Euron wiped the apple with a sleeve taking a bite, "the kraken will remain in the depths waiting until the right time to strike," Selmy returned marching up to Euron, "who knows in a few years I'll get bored of this shit hole run by a kneeler and go fuck that Targaryen girl across the Narrow Sea."

Ser Barriston despised law breakers especially those who willingly went against it albeit arrogantly as Crow Eye did, "you interfere with the crown we won't hesitate killing you." The kingsguard commander wasn't a liar, he didn't have the same foolhearty faith Robert had in Eddard to execute the Greyjoy ward.

"Who's going to stop me? You old man?"

Barriston smirked hearing the audacity coming out Crow Eye's mouth, "I'd be more than happy to save the king the trouble. I could cut the both of you down before you lot shit yourselves." The knight glanced at the stoic Victarion barley speaking a word to this point, "and you choose peace, not to be some madman's dog."

"I could say the same for you Barriston, serving Baratheon and Lannisters will only end two ways," Euron placed a hand on a silent Balon's shoulder, "you'll stay in a fortress much small than this as servants tend to your every need waiting for you to die, or you'll end up taking orders from a Baratheon bastard who can't tell your accomplishments from the paper he wiped his ass with."

"The Old Way is dead." Barriston halted lingering outside the doorway facing the Greyjoys. "I guarantee I'll be back personally if you interfere with the realm's business. If I do grow old I'll be content dying in some back alley shit city knowing someone younger, stronger will take my place in killing you." The knight halted halfway out the door glancing at the raider family," then again they don't need to be as good as me to finish you."

"He's right." Balon said noticing Euron's angered look after the doors slammed shut, "Ironborn is dead." Balon nearly fell out his chair as Euron flipped a table over irking nearby guards.

Euron glared at Balon nostrils flaring shoving Victarion's hand away, "you're wrong brother, long as blood flows through these veins Ironborn will never die. If you die it matters not, I was wrong to follow you." Euron turned to Victorian, "gunna cry about it ya big fuckin baby, choose a side, be a fuckin Ironborn!" Euron swiped a rum bottle stalking down the fortress halls forging his own path.

"If you knew my father then you know me. He made the peace that day because he believed we didn't have to make the mistakes of our ancestors, that it isn't too late to change. We can change. We can be different..." The Ironborn lords approached them cautiously watching Jon relax further.

Victarion didn't care about peace or resolving things non-violently, it went against the Ironborn customs. However now he truly did know who this Stark was truly. 'Theon.' The young lad was punished for the sins of his father. Despite being a ruthless conquerer family meant as much to him as the very blood in his veins, "tell me ranger," he spat keeping Jon's attention, "you grew up with my nephew Theon, he was raised as a ward."

Jon nodded, "he was just as much my fathers child as any of us were." He could see the surprise slowly onset to Victarion, "we grew and fought as brothers. Theon wasn't just a Greyjoy, he was also Stark."

"Tell me something, the Bolton bastard who killed his father, the one who captured Theon, Winterfell, and Moat Coalin proclaiming himself Warden of the North...It was you who slayed him?"

Jon shook his head, "I didn't kill him, it wasn't mine to take." The anger was clear and evident for all to see, "for everything he did I want to kill him in every way possible for what he and his family did to mine...What he did to Theon..."

Victarion sighed gripping the axe, "I administer torture not genital mutilation and puppeteering the human mind to slavery...I'm a liberator."

"I've seen worse than you beyond the wall, you nor your people cannibalize for starters. Not to mention you at least have a moral code even if it is flawed, then again no one's perfect." Jon stared past the dunes as the battle sounds became more scarce, "those warriors are from across the Narrow Sea, they follow you loyally to the end, I can't ignore something like that. Though since none of them speak I'm assuming you can tell me why you were absent in Westeros gathering an army in the east."

The younger Greyjoy brother was amused offering a grin, "you answered your own question ranger, this army are freed slaves I was preparing to hand over to Daenerys Targaryen. We became sidetracked beyond Skahazadham battling with Sothorian pirates aiming to take the loot we found out east."

"What did you find?"

Victarion felt a chill run through every fiber, it was only a matter of time he supposed, "we traveled to the ruins of Valyria. I lost a lot of my men scavenging the treacherous land, the area is highly toxic killing most inhabitants and creatures except the Stonemen." The aged captain released a ragged exhale attempting a laugh, "It lost me a lot of resources but I found exactly what I was looking for, A dragon horn able to bind dragons to their will."

Jon stepped closer surprising the spectators, "that explains it even more now," Victarion glared past his long dark bangs at the ranger's sudden shift after receiving the information, "far beyond the wall where men haven't traveled for centuries my group stumbled upon the Winter horn said to bring the wall crashing down at worlds end." The horns must've originated out east as rumors had indicated through the centuries, "it always comes back to the Targaryens in the end." He couldn't fathom the need for their creation in the first place aside from the lust of power and conquest, the two traits which defined the Targaryens since their initial emergence and disappearance.

"The rumors were true then..." Victarion trailed off noticing the losing battle on his side, "well Stark, you're not new to how this works. Gloat your victory over me to Westeros, just grant me a worthy death." Victarion found the Iron Victory off shore recalling the only feeling that gave him joy. Sailing the world oceans conquering and pillaging was all he'd ever known.

Jon offered his hand, "we don't have to kill each other, you've been around the world you know there is a threat that is bigger than any army. Maybe we can work together," Jon furrowed his brows at the sight of Gylbert cradling his son's body to him, "you've killed family it's a crime you deserve to die for, it's what I will die for. You carry warriors under you not soldiers, though I'll admit I wouldn't want to face you on the sea. I'm sparing as many of your men as I can sending them to the wall for service to the Night's Watch." Jon said holding his arm out enough offering Victarion a chance to raise off his knee accepting assistance.

"You offer the wall?" Victarion grinned toothily for the first time in ages, "Ironborn don't serve the Watch." Balon viewed the order as a waste while their father kept their prisoners strictly Ironborn sending only the best warriors and sailors to join the crown's navy. Ironborn we're destined to sail not serve an order in the forsaken north.

"I offer death. The true north is hell, that's where I'm going. Turns out I'm not much for ruling I never wanted a crown, some aren't meant to rule. Yara is, the Iron Islands is in good hands."

Victarion finally dropped the broadsword as he reached out for Jon's hand. Blood splattered across Jon spraying over the sand dune as Harras pulled the dagger out Victarion's nape as his axe fell into the sand. Jon wiped the blood off his face seeing Victarion gasp out blood unable to keep the fatal wound pressurized, "you...huh, should've known. Losing to a Stark isn't a terrible death...Even still, it doesn't matter." Victarion saw the Iron Victory one last time collapsing dead before he hit the sand allowing the lords to release a relieved exhale.

Harras sheathed the curved blade, "you were always dumb as a stump to think you would've never fallen for something trivial, great work Lord Snow—"

Jon snatched his collar, "what the hell was that? It didn't have end like this!" His anger grew as he killed an unassuming enemy who dropped their guard, it wasn't right.

Harras shoved Jon away, "back off Snow! You didn't know the bastard as I did, he deserved a lot worse than what he got, besides based off what I heard you got what the information you wanted." The knight marched past Jon hitting his shoulder, "you came here to help us not your fucking order, next time stay out of my way."

Jon made his way toward the dunes heading east back to the battle heavily favored in their victory. "I'm so sorry." He said placing a hand on Glybert's shoulder leaving the family to grieve over their loss. He understood the lords bowing out of the sea war, they'd done enough as far as he was concerned.

Off the coastline on the Iron Victory Moqorro grimaced slamming the staff on the planks igniting a green flame sparking across the planks. "Lord Victarion and our ground forces are defeated, the plan to capture Pyke from the northern allies was a failure. Then the lord's flames spoke truth, the dragon masquerading as a wolf successfully slain the former lord captain." Moqorro caught the dusky woman holding her firm preventing her from jumping the railing, "where do you think you're going woman?! Lord Victarion is no more! He is dead! There's nothing you can do—Ah you whore!" He threw her to the deck examining the teeth marks chunked in his arm bleeding profusely. Moqorro snatched her hair before she could hiss, "watch yourself woman, lord captain isn't here to protect you anymore, now you're nothing but a traitorous whore who's fulfilled her role."

Tom Tidewood an Ironborn raider made it back to the boat able to escape a duel with the ranger causing havoc on the battlefield. "Our lord is dead, the northern armies are advancing to sea! Their taking most of everyone prisoner under their guise." Moqorro examined the familiar Crow Eye flags in the distance branching to engage Queen Yara's smaller fleet as the remnants of their own held anchored. "We're getting rid of the asset, lord captain's final order it was. There is no need for the cursed thing, either way it's your head or mine if they get their hands on it."

Moqorro pushed off the railing over the dusky woman, "you can't throw it out, it will stay well hidden rest assured." He followed Tom into the ship's hull corridors beside him, "I order you soldier—"

Tom slammed Moqorro into the nearest wall, "you're not in a position to order anything, old fool." He threw the wizard aside kicking a storage door in drawing a dagger approaching the crate's ropes. The commander halted grasping at the staff digging into his exposed throat falling onto the sorcerer. Moqorro pulled the staff tighter placing it under the soldier's chin earning gasps as he kicked wildly boots scraping the wood.

Tom's flailing legs kicked apart the floorboards gripping the staff tighter wheezing air out his constricting lungs. Moqorro's hands bled as he tugged tightly choking the remaining breath out as blood squirt out the serrated jugular as Tom jerked uncontrollably watching blood squirt out his sore neck wound. Moqorro pulled one last time sighing as Tom fell still falling limp. The red wizard kicked the body off walking over to the crate containing their eastern asset. The box shook violently against its chains forcing Moqorro toward he door. Moqorro paused in the doorway noticing Wufle descending the corridor steps coming below deck calling Tom's name.

Wulfe scratched his lone ear, "Tom! Tom! Get your ass on deck we're leaving Tom!" Wulfe opened the busted door slowly surveying Tom's blood trail smearing into the far corner of the dark room. Wulfe wasn't a fool he was appointed leader of the strongest Ironborn warriors aboard Noble Lady, a ship stolen en route to King's Landing taking part in Meereen's second siege. "What did you fucking do?" Wulfe wiped the blood off his fingertips examining its freshness. Wulfe whipped around to the sound of chains rattling against the opposite wall.

A sharp pain hit Wulfe's skull cracking the top of it downing him as he clutched the bleeding wound. "You..." Wulfe turned over as Moqorro stood over him, the staff's dragon dripping his blood. "You're protecting that thing, you only serve yourself wizard, a false servant of an even falser god..." Wulfe spat at Moqorro's sandals, "a false prophet."

Moqorro chuckled, "The Lord of Light Rhollor tells no lies, he's foreseen your death." The dragon head descended knocking the broadsword out Wulfe's grasp cracking his wrist. Moqorro brought the staff down popping an eyeball out its socket swinging again caving Wulfe's forehead in sending teeth flying across the floor.

"Unhand me woman," Longwater Pyke pried the dusky woman's free shoving her away. "Priest where have you been? Where are Tom and Lone Ear? They were with you right, we agreed to meet here." He approached the emerging wizard as he appeared from below deck.

"Nothing to worry about, they're taking care of it as we speak. We must focus on escaping and protecting this ship before—"

"Enough bullshit! Where is Tom and Wulfe?!" The question hung in the air for what felt an eternity, the only movement came from the ship itself.

"You dare disobey your lord captain."

"You're not anything to this ship, you were a deadman when we found you floating in the wreckage that day." Longwater halted drawing his sword as Moqorro stepped in his intended path, "Enough shit, I knew to never trust a fuckin word that comes out your lyin mouth."

The Ironborn bastard swung his sword missing wildly. Moqorro unveiled Wulfe's dagger jamming it into Longwater's neck overpowering him on the nearest wall. Moqorro stabbed through an eye and his neck rapidly bringing Longwater to his knees smashing his head into the wall splattering brains everywhere. Moqorro collapsed sitting next to the body not bothering to wipe the blood masking his face repeating something along the lines of, "the red lords nor his words were false."

The dusky woman held a hand to her chest seeing the foreign Westerosi invaders ascend the ropes climbing up the vessel's starboard. Moqorro clutched dagger raising it toward the first invaders climbing over the railing. He charged full tilt to the enemy raising the dagger high above his head. Jon nonchalantly knocked the blade away bringing an uppercut into Moqorro's gut grabbing onto a hand forcing an interrogation. "Talk, I'm not in a patient mood." Jon held Moqorro's left pinky, "where is the dragon horn?"

Moqorro grinned releasing a laugh, "you must be gravely mistaken, I have no knowledge—" Moqorro shouted in agony as his pinky snapped at the joint.

"Quit wasting my time," Jon glanced at the northern allies commencement of commandeering Iron Victory prepping to sail toward Crow Eyes's fleet. The brutal stabbing of the Ironborn warrior was too suspicious to let the white haired man go. "Show me the horn, move." Moqorro gritted his teeth as the immense pressure increased on another finger. The dusky woman clutched Jon's arm preventing him from descending, "where did you come from?" He missed her presence when he climbed aboard, had she been an assassin it could've spelt trouble. He noticed the fresh bruising and blood on her face. "Wait here." Jon said giving Moqorro a dead leg sending him crumpling to the floor. He scooped the woman up in his arms heading to the longboats preparing to disembark. "Take her to Lordsport, she'll be safe with Lord Botley." The soldier wrestled her grip taking her with the injured and supples.

Harras stood at the helm steering converging with the other ships: Fingerdancer, Lamentation, Sparrowhawk, Grief, Kraken's Kiss, Iron Wing, Warhammer, also captured ships Ghost and Shade. "The crow eye fleet is being flanked by our queen's fleet in a pincer move, should we attack them head on?"

"Yes commander," Harras answered spinning the wheel curving the rotor speeding the blazing vessel into motion after hauling up anchor. The Iron Victory picked up momentum heading into the kraken's den, "prepare to fire from all sides when we ran into their frontline, hop to it we have a war to win here!" He said leaving the wheel to a navigator barking orders along the deck.

Below Jon restrained Moqorro's hands tying him up, "it's in here," Jon noted the bloody corpses hunched in the corner coming to stand in front of the crate.

"No! You don't know what you're doing—"

Jon unlatched the crate sliding its lid off revealing a body squirming under wraps tied in a blanket next to the meter long dragon horn. The ship rocked nearly throwing the pair down, "stay put, don't go anywhere."

"I refuse!"

Jon struck Moqorro knocking him cold tossing him in the crate running up the corridor stairs greeted by smoke filling the air flowing through his vernacular. The silent enemies burst past the embers and smoke ambushing the allies. Jon sliced a charging grunt ducking low evading an arrow. He lifted another silent warrior over his shoulder as Longclaw slashed through foes swinging onto the Victory. Exiled Ironborn and Northern soldiers clashed returning cannon fire at Harras's order as the Crow Eye fleet surrounded the Iron Victory smashing nearby vessels apart obliterating enemies sending them flying out to sea.

The Iron Victory's bow rammed into Silence II, a much larger ship unable to move any further. No screams, grunts, or yells came from the enemy, only unfiltered bloodlust. The warriors bombarded across the fallen spiked plank crashing the ship's front. Chaos erupted across the Iron Island coast as ships smashed into one another sparking the sea battle. Iron Victory's port and starboard sides were supplanted with planks allowing allied forces to spread to enemy vessels unwilling to be cornered and flanked in a single position.

A ferocious battle cry rang out across the ship as a warrior fit in shiny black and red armor leapt from the Silence's bow swinging an axe wildly clearing the allied forces out singlehandedly. Jon and Harras evacuated soldiers to crow eyes ships fighting their way to a clearing out on deck. The incoming enemy wasn't like the last, displaying a completely different presence albeit a familiar one to both. Harras halted closest to the enemy as he decapitated one of his own leaving the vessel empty aside from them on board.

Euron grinned catching a glimpse of the familiar Stark armor, "Queen Slayer!" He yelled holding his arms out unable to contain his glee, "I heard rumors they sent you to the wall for your crime ranger. Now here you are in Stark armor, what makes you believe there is any honor left in you."

Jon stared down Euron tightening the grip on Longclaw turning his knuckles white. He'd only met Theon's uncle once during the Dragonpit summit as the pirate sat beside Cersei Lannister. They'd barley spoken two words to one another having no reason to interact. They'd spoke two words to each other having no reason to interact other than simply being present yet that stood at diametrically opposed ideologies and morals. It was a poorly kept secret the man was as crazed as he was dangerous. "Cousin Euron, you're finally here, now we can finally settle this."

Euron glanced at Harras out his peripheral studying the knight, the once gleeful expression now replaced by a cold calculated look. "Hold steady Harras we'll take him down in tandem." Harras raised Nightfall charging Euron ignoring Jon's protest. Euron blocked Harra's strike with Widow's Wail jamming a dagger through his eye socket piercing the back of his skull. Harras grit his teeth heaving heavily unable to process the trauma collapsing in a pool of blood.

Jon furrowed his brows turning his attention from the deceased Harras finding Euron's grin, "I hate third wheels don't you?"

"He was in on this too? Then I'm assuming he told you when and where Yara's Dorne diplomats were headed."

"Doesn't take brains to figure that one," Euron said draping the Valyrian blade over a shoulder, "he was a waste, don't fret over it. I've been lookin forward to facing you, instead I settled for a one handed disgraced kingsgaurd barley a shell of what he once was."

"Last I heard Jamie Lannister put a sword through you." It was obvious the wizard was responsible for his resurrected healing and the lord captain Victarion's trip to Valyria explained the Valyrian armor he was wearing.

"As you can see I'm very much alive, I've come to take my rightful place at the Salt Throne. My niece has no right to sit on it, I was victorious during our Kingsmoot."

Jon held his ground ignoring the cannon fire bursting the nearby ships apart, "Yara is the rightful ruler, you allied yourself with Cersei Lannister who killed thousands of innocents."

Euron bellowed out a laugh, "and the dragon queen? She killed over a million with that fiery display over King's Landing. She was your aunt after all and you slaughtered her like cattle. You act all self righteous serving the Watch and by the look of it a new queen." Jon remained unhindered awaiting Euron's move, "since I'm not a Targaryen and I ain't into my niece. I could really use a queen to impregnate. Are you a sister fucker too? The last one was tainted, I want this next one to be pure." Jon halted himself nearly losing himself to the anger, this monster would never come close to Winterfell, he would go to hell and back to make sure it never happen. "That tighten you up a bit? At least you're aware enough to not make the same mistake as this cunt." Euron said spitting on the lord of Grey Garden's corpse. "You're not a coward like my disappointment of a nephew, I'll indulge you, killing two queen slayers in my life would to good an honor to pass up."

"I'll finish you off, I'm going to stop you."

"You will die trying ranger."

Widow's Wail struck Longclaw sparking the air backing its owner down as the combatants parried one another's swings using one another using the momentum to fuel their next attacks. Jon matched every movement in spades refusing to break his defensive stance using a hanging guard catching the opponent's blade. Jon held steady at the stairs edge refusing to give another inch. Euron kicked the plates armor sending him skidding across the central deck rotating Longclaw keeping his gaze trained on the enemy above.

Yara led her forces through the fifty ships rear formation. Enemies fell to their swords unaware of the queen's ambush focusing all their attention at the advancing northern allies. Qarl, Skyte, and Uller led the smaller garrisons commandeering Crow Eye ships ramming them into vessel lines pushing ships together constricting the battlefield. "Forward! We fight until our dying breath!" Yara raised her sword earning shouts from the imperial forces as she gripped a rope swinging to the next ship fighting her way through.

Euron charged spinning into a reverse flourish technique as he relentlessly clashed against Longclaw slicing through the corridor continuing their duel. Euron spun around guarding his back with another flourish move parrying Jon's first forward strike. Euron brought Widow's Wail overhead in a hammer strike attempting to break Jon's stance. He used a downward upward spin flourish blocking Longclaw using the clash to propel his strikes. Jon countergrapped Euron's grip on his sword hand exposing Euron's back to him, Widow's Wail caught Longclaw at a crucial time halting Jon's slower overhead swing.

Euron pursued the warden down the hall once more cutting through the wood exchanging sword swings clanged on the central deck after a fierce strike from both. The Silence captain drop kicked Jon sending him to the crashing on planks. Jon waited a moment steadily rising toward his feet shoulder ramming Euron to the ground as he attempted to recover his blade. The pair scrambled for their weapons simultaneously as Jon proved quicker striking first unbelieving Euron blocked his blade in the nick of time.

"My queen!" The Silence II and Iron Victory are still stationary at the formations bow." Qarl said hanging on the ropes zooming the scope lenses shocked at the sight.

"What is it Qarl?" What's happening?" She caught the scope smiling noticing what he'd seen, "we keep on task taking out Euron's cannons are our priority, our northern friend is just fine." The queen's forces tied prisoners of war by the dozen taking note of the allied forces conduct. They sought no loot nor glory in killing, they took pride in their duty to who they were fighting for—the Stark name. "Prepare to board the Sea Bitch on our her port side, drop the sails!"

Euron and Jon held a stalemate unable to break the others sword. Had one of them had a regular sword the fight would've been long over. The two slashed at the same time breaking the hold flying to opposing side of the deck. Euron recovered first leaping off a crate rearing his sword striking Iron Victory's mast as Longclaw fell forward propelling through the wood slicing a large chunk out the mast sending it timbering onto nearby vessels avoiding the Silence II. Jon slipped Nightfall in the unoccupied scabbard jumping onto the mast blocking Euron's slash as he ran up the railing noting the adjacent ship's side unstable condition. They kept even footing over the crackling mast switching to a one handed fighting form as Euron backed Jon down the fallen mast noticing both allied and enemies alike fall into the darkened depths being immediately devoured by the twenty foot great white sharks circling their fleets. Euron sidestepped Longclaw's piercing thrust hopping over the side swipe that would've sent him legless tumbling into the bloody shark pit below.

Northern allies and silencers fell off the ship and mast attempting to escape the vessel catching fire in the hull. Jon held steady blocking Euron's strikes leaping off the high mast landing hard on the ship. The lord captain pursued relentlessly crashing aboard engaging Jon's swings as the large mast crumbled sending calvary plummeting to their deaths. Fire exploded below as arrows caught flames sinking the stern vessel faster. Jon and Euron ran to cover clashing swords as the fiery parade rained on them ravaging the ship. The combatants emerged at the same time reengaging unable to stop from falling to the deck clinging onto the opposite rails. The ship descended faster throwing soldiers off the edge sending them sliding into the shark frenzy. Jon grasped a loose hanging rope snapping it free from the buckle swinging freely high in the air looking for an escape. Euron glanced at the men screaming for help being devoured by the sea beasts. Determined to not share the same fate he followed the ranger yanking on the rope ascending to Jon's level exchanging a clash as the ranger swung off the rope landing on a longboat leaving Euron to his fate.

Euron sheathed Widow's Wail descending the rope landing on the sinking ship. He regained his footing running on the mast leaping atop the lookout post crashing onto the longboat as Jon held on, falling into the water wasn't an option. "Yara will make this place great, you failed your people."

"Says the man who fucked his aunt then killed her after swearing loyalty over the North, you are the failure Snow. You'll fail again and I'll be happy to take your place as warden." Euron said twirling the Widow as he swung nearly slipping as Jon missed a strike reeling in the wild swing matching Euron's intensity riding the newly sunken ship's wake. Euron broke the stalemate first latching onto the stationary ship, while Jon ascended the ropes slashing the crow eyes grunts regrouping with Yara's garrisons.

"Ranger! I have her!" Euron laughed in his nieces ear managing to catch her by surprise. The silencers slaughtered Yara's personal soldiers ripping their tongues out their mouths earning petrified screams from the hardened warriors. "Come on! Prove to me you can save her." Euron gripped the dagger on his hand pulling Yara tighter to him.

Jon drew Nightfall dual wielding alongside Longclaw for the first time slicing mercilessly through grunts decapitating them showing no mercy. Yara snapped her head back smashing Euron's nose loosening his grip as she kicked him sending him stumbling. Yara caught Nightfall in her hand parrying Widows Wail's strike. Jon took out the remaining grunts slashing his way toward Yara blocking Euron's fierce strike in time as he aimed to kill his niece. With a mutual nod the two worked in tandem combating Euron quickly overwhelming him.

Yara kicked Euron as Jon brought an uppercut to his sternum evading a piercing stab. Euron blocked Yara's strike falling to a knee after a slash to the quad. The captain fell raising a hand unable to move, "go on finish it Yara! Give your uncle a kiss!" Yara kicked the back of his head before he could rise again knocking Euron cold. Jon checked on a tongueless soldier witnessing him pass away attempting to speak. Yara dropped the unconscious Euron at Jon's feet taking Widow's Wail off him.

"You didn't kill him..."

Yara smirked at his surprise, "I suppose I have you to thank for that. Everything you've done, it all comes back to family. Besides slitting this bastard's throat is far too kind."

"I'm inclined to agree." Jon sighed, "I'm sure you knew about Harras Harlaw being the rat to Euron here." Jon said nodding toward the captain.

Yara folded her arms, "I wanted to tell you. I didn't even tell my council. Keeping a close eye on him was the only way I could be sure."

"Your reasonings understandable. Why me though?"

The queen chuckled meeting his gaze, "cause he couldn't bullshit you. I'm sure he tried." She wiped at her eye sighing softly.

Jon glanced at her coming to stand shoulder length's distance. He placed a hand on her as she smiled slightly before letting it falter, "you're not alone. Theon was my family and so are you—" Jon wheezed as she crushed him in a hug. He returned it after the shock subsided smiling at the prospect of having another honorary Stark.

"Do you want this sword? I sorta like this one." Yara asked holding out Widow's Wail keeping Nightfall at her side. "You can handle yourself well with two swords."

Jon scratched his neck sheepishly, "that was my first time dual wielding swords in live combat."

"Are you crazy! You could've been killed!" Jon broke out into a laugh as she continued berating him for his reckless stunt. Perhaps having another sister couldn't hurt. Qarl, Skyte, and Uller sailed Yara's ship pulling up next to the Crow Eye ship. Jon hoisted Euron over a shoulder grabbing Yara's wrist catching her attention from her crew.

"What is it Jon?" She asked noticing his averted gaze.

"I need to show you something...It needs to stay between us." It wasn't a question for the queen he was part of their family.

Euron gasped as water poured over his face causing him to shiver shaking the water off him. "You didn't kill me huh? What the hell are you waiting for?" The captain wiped the dry blood from the back of his head still feeling Yara's roundhouse kick. Euron turned to his left meeting Moqorro's gaze as he muffled curses through a cloth. "At least they shut you up." Euron halted as the coffin snapped open and a body thudded on the floor.

"Who is this?" Jon asked standing beside Yara glaring at Euron who laughed recognizing the dragon horn also on the ground. Everything was coming to light and he intended to be apart of it.

"This...This is the real Pyat Pree. It took some time but I finally found the warlock that will lead me to the next dragons." Euron laughed again as Moqorro stared in awe. Jon and Yara exchanged a glance realizing they stumbled onto something much bigger than the Salt Throne and the Iron Islands itself.

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XXX

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A/N: Rest assured the next chapter is always in the works unless I say otherwise. For those waiting on the other stories you'll see an update on one of them before the years out. This story will return in the new year. Next will feature Sansa in the Riverlands, Dany will get caught up to current events, meanwhile Jon and Yara decide the next move after the battle of the Iron Islands.