Author's Note: Sorry for the brief absence, guys. Apparently I was unable to get another chapter done on time due to writer's block, re-editing, burning myself out… and passed out due to the stress again. I'm really trying my best.
Anyway, this chapter will be considered another filler arc –– except this will focus more on the Night's Watch and the Iron Islands.
######
At one of Riverrun's guest rooms…
The rays of the sunlight shine through the window into Robb Stark's room. He had apparently chosen to spend the night with his family after attending his grandfather's funeral. With his uncle Edmure Tully the new Lord of Riverrun, it was a period of adjustment for the people swearing fealty to the new Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Robb looked at the foot of his bed to see Grey Wind still sleeping; the direwolf twitched slightly during one of his dream cycles.
Alongside him laid another; stirring in her sleep was a naked Talisa Maegyr. Apparently during their travels together the two had grown rather… intimate; more so as of late. Robb smiled at the foreign Volantene woman as she began to open her eyes.
"Good morning, my lady," Robb greeted.
Talisa yawned. "Good morning, my lord," she rubbed her eyes.
Robb rubbed his hand against her arm before bringing it up to her cheeks. "Did I wake you? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"No," she shook her head and kissed Robb's hand. "You were amazing."
Robb leaned down to kiss Talisa, who in turn reciprocated.
"How did I, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, end up being so lucky as to have a woman like you?" Robb joked.
Taelisa raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And how did I, a foreigner groomed to be a proper lady, play the harp and dance the latest steps and recite Valyrian poetry, end up being so lucky as to be with a man like you?"
"I'd like to hear you play the harp."
"No. No, you would not."
Robb laughed as he watched Talisa slide out of bed to put on her morning gown. As he stood, Grey Wind woke up and jumped off the bed – ready to start the day.
"I'm curious," Robb spoke as he put his clothes on. "How did you go from reciting Valyrian poetry to sawing off men's feet?"
Talisa sighed and shook her head. "When I was 12, my mother and father went to a wedding. Weddings in Volantis last for days, you know. And they left me with my little brother. The second afternoon they were gone was the hottest day in the three-year summer. We couldn't bear to be inside, so we ran down to the Rhoyne. Every child in Volantis was in the Rhoyne that day. The rich, the poor, we were all there, naked, screaming, racing to the little islands."
Robb stood by the window, listening closely as Talisa continued.
"Drummers were playing for coppers on the east bank. I was treading water, talking to a friend when I realized I hadn't seen my brother. I called his name. Then I started screaming his name. And then I saw him floating face down. My heart just… stopped. I was… I dragged him from the water. My friend helped me, I think. I don't even remember. He was so little."
Robb felt his stomach twist into knots; the thought of losing any of his brothers and sisters always frightened him. To hear how Talisa lose hers…
"Then we pulled him onto the riverbank... and I screamed at him and I shook him and he was dead. Just dead. A man ran over. He had a fish tattoo on his face. In Volantis the slaves have tattoos so you know what they are without having to talk to them. And this man worked on a fishing boat. And he pushed me out of the way."
Talisa looked at Robb.
"You have to understand, for a slave to push a highborn girl… that's death for the man, a terrible death. But he pushed me out of the way and he started pressing on my brother's chest again and again and again until my brother spat out half of the Rhoyne and cried out. And the man cradled his head and told him to be calm. I decided two things that day: I would not waste my years planning dances and masquerades with the other noble ladies. And when I came of age… I would never live in a slave city again."
'So that's why,' Robb realized thoughtfully.
*KNOCK, KNOCK*
"Who is it?" Robb called out.
"It's Theon, Robb."
Robb opened the door and Theon Greyjoy came strolling in, stopping as he saw Talisa sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Theon gave a wicked grin as he turned to Robb.
"Well well, Robb, you never told me you had, uh… 'company'; never thought of you as the sort. Should I leave and come back later?"
Talisa blushed furiously.
"Theon," Robb warned embarrassed.
Theon raised his hands up. "Relax, I was just kidding!" he jokingly proclaimed innocence before turning serious. "A word, my lord? In private."
Talisa finished fixing her hair and stood up. "I guess I have to leave now. My lord," she curtsied.
Robb nodded and Talisa left the room, leaving Theon and Robb alone.
"You don't have to call me 'my lord' when no one's around."
"It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"I'm glad someone's gotten used to it. Anyway, Theon, you wanted to speak to me?"
Theon nodded. "I did. Your sister Sansa's already left for King's Landing this morning with the royal wedding being around the corner, no doubt. If you'd like, I could take my leave to go to the Iron Islands and deliver some gifts on my father's behalf."
'The Iron Islands…?' Robb thought suspiciously. "Balon's men fought my father and Daveth's, Theon," he points out.
"I know. I know that," Theon acknowledged. "My father's men fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, yes, but that was then. And this is now. I'm his only living son. I'm sure he'll listen to me. I know I'm not a Stark, but your father raised me to be an honorable man. It's the least I can do for him."
Robb looked out the window, uncertain of whether or not to approve of Theon's sudden request. After all, Balon Greyjoy was a harsh and fierce man, yet more than that the Lord Reaper of Pyke was as ambitious as he is ruthless. Eleven years ago, he rebelled against the Iron Throne to revive the "Old Way" and declared himself King of the Iron Islands. The Old Way philosophy centers around the concept of "paying the iron price": to seize any wealth or possession by force. To pay the "gold price", buying or trading for items, is shameful for any man. The rebellion was short, however, and Balon was soundly defeated and forced to bend the knee after losing his two older sons along with the entire Iron Fleet. Theon was sent to Winterfell as a ward/hostage for his good behavior.
If word were to reach King Daveth's ears, the Oathkeeper would be vocally and vehemently opposed to the request – considering his past history with the ironborn. But Robb knew Theon a lot longer than Daveth did.
"All right, Theon," Robb concedes.
Theon smiles. "You won't regret this, Robb. I swear it."
"Just be sure to make it on time for my sister's wedding."
"Will do. Just don't start without me."
The young Greyjoy bowed slightly and left the room, clearly intending to take a boat to the Iron Islands to gather some gifts to give to the King and soon-to-be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms on behalf of House Greyjoy and the Iron Islands. It was a tradition throughout the realm whenever a monarch gets married.
######
Somewhere at the Frostfangs, beyond the Wall…
A large party of Night's Watchmen range through the woods on horseback. The assembled party dubbed the "Great Ranging" was organized by the 997th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch Jeor Mormont to the lead the enormous expedition to lands beyond the Wall in response to numerous reports of Free Folk villages being found empty and wildlings amassing in numbers, the discovery of wights in the Haunted Forest and the disappearance of First Ranger Benjen Stark as well as other rangers. With an elite force of 300 men–almost one third of the whole manpower of the Night's Watch–it showed the Old Bear was taking the reports very seriously.
"We know what's out there, but we have to make it, have to warn them or before winter's done, everyone you've ever known will be dead," Jeor reminded Jon Snow before the Great Ranging began.
Jon had separated from the main group with Qhorin Halfhand, yet initially captured the quick-witted spearwife Ygritte before she turned the tables and brought them to a large Free Folk camp with the Lord of Bones. On the way, however, Qhorin secretly concocted a plan to install Jon as a spy within King-Beyond-the-Wall Mance Rayder's army and lashed out at the Stark bastard – which ended in Qhorin's death at Jon's hands, catching Ygritte and the other Free Folk off-guard.
Upon arriving at the wildling camp, Jon could see tents were made of animal hide and whale bones, the wildlings glared fiercely at the Stark bastard as he walked by. Jon soon stopped in his tracks as he saw a giant carrying whale bones past him; a race of non-humanoids considered to be myths and legends by those living south of the Wall. They're said to be over twice the size of the average man measuring approximately 12 to 14 feet tall with blocky facial features and are as strong as a dozen humans.
"First time you've seen a giant, Jon Snow?" Ygritte jabbed at him.
Jon's fascination dissipated and nodded.
"Well, don't stare too long," she warned. "They're shy. And when they stop being shy, they get angry, I've seen them pound a man straight into the ground like a hammer on a nail."
The giant picked up one of the whale bones and began smacking it into the ground with its fist. The giant soon stopped and turned to directly stare at Jon, its face contorting into a vicious growl – which sent him scurrying off a bit. Ygritte found Jon's reaction very amusing.
"Crow!" they hollered as they pointed at Jon.
"Crow!"
"Look over there! Crow!"
"Ah, look, crow coming!"
Jon said nothing as Ygritte led him on, occasionally being pelted with rocks and twigs that were hurled at him by the wildling children.
"You're wearing the wrong color," Ygritte pointed out.
"Mance was a ranger once," Jon tried to counter.
"In your hearts, all you crows want to fly free," she ignored him.
"When I'm free, will I be free to go?" he asked, growing increasingly bitter after so many rocks were thrown at him.
"Sure, you will," Ygritte laughed. "And I'll be free to kill you."
Ygritte took Jon's sheathed blade and smacked one of the boys that tried to run up and hit Jon Snow in the face with a rock. She quickly turned and pushed another man to the ground. By that time, they got the message and all laughed it off. Nothing was very serious to them than their own survival.
"They've got no respect, this lot. Their fathers need to slap them with their foul. Beat them when they're this bad, even."
"What happened to their fathers?"
"Some were killed by crows like you. Be it, out hunting, ambushed. Some even shot down from the Wall," Ygritte answered, trying to contain the bitterness she felt growing inside her. "Don't be so grim, Jon Snow. If Mance Rayder likes you, and you do as he says, you'll live to see another day. And if he don't…"
Jon said nothing as he had already gotten the idea and was brought inside Mance Rayder's camp to meet the King-Beyond-the-Wall in the flesh, though he was shoved by the Lord of Bones once more first. A couple high-ranking Free Folk chieftains were inside sitting either sharpening their blades or feasting on whatever slabs of meat were available to them. The most noticeable one in particular, the one the other wildlings call Tormund Giantsbane, had a large red beard.
"I smell a crow," he snorted.
"We killed his friends," one of Jon's captors spoke. "Thought you'd want to question this one yourself."
The wildling chief stood, his shoulders were broad and he had massive arms. Jon felt intimidated by this man's presence as he towered over him.
"What do we want with a baby crow?"
"This baby crow killed Qhorin Halfhand," Ygritte explained. "He wants to be one of us."
"That half-handed cunt killed friends of mine, friends twice your size," Tormund began.
Jon stood his ground. "My father told me that big men fall just as quick as the little ones if you put a sword through their hearts."
The Free Folk chief glared at him. "Plenty of little men tried to put their swords through my heart. And there's plenty of little skeletons buried in the woods. What's your name, boy?"
Jon felt his eyes drop as he bent to one knee. "Jon Snow. Your Grace."
"'Your Grace?'" Tormund said mockingly as the other Free Folks began laughing at Jon's attempt at courtesy. "Did you hear that? From now on, you'd better kneel every time I fart!"
The laughter soon died as another made his presence known. "Stand, boy," he commanded. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the Wall."
The assembled Free Folk soon became serious as they stepped backwards a bit. Jon looked confused, but did as he was told. This wildling appeared to be much more different than the others; more… dignified, commanding. This had to be Mance Rayder.
"So, you're Ned Stark's bastard," Mance said as he examined Jon up and down. "Thank you for the gift, Lord of Bones. You can leave us."
The Lord of Bones and Ygritte left the camp without saying a word, except for Tomund as he served as one of Mance's closest and most trusted lieutenants in his massive army.
"The girl likes you. You like her back, Snow? That why you want to join us?"
Jon felt this throat tightening as Mance pressed the issue. A wildling by birth and a former Night's Watchmen, Mance deserted his post to return to his people north of the Wall and unified all the Free Folk tribes under his command and held the title King-Beyond-the-Wall for more than a decade. Under his command, the Free Folk were considered dangerous as Mance knew the Night's Watch and their tactics better than anyone in his encampment combined.
The Northern bastard had to say something but was unsure of what to say, but Mance and Tormund already knew it almost immediately.
"Don't panic, boy," Tormund scolded Jon. "This isn't the damned Night's Watch where we make you swear off girls."
Mance chuckled. "This chicken eater you thought was king is Tormund Giantsbane."
"Still can't believe this pup killed the Halfhand," Tormund complained.
"He was our enemy and I'm glad he's dead," Mance said, extending his hand to grip Jon's arm before pulling him close. "He was my brother once. Back when he had a whole hand. What were you doing with him?"
"The Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont, sent me to the Halfhand for seasoning," Jon answered honestly.
"Why?" Mance pressed.
"He wants me to lead one day."
"But here you are, a traitor, kneeling before the King-Beyond-the-Wall."
"If I'm a traitor, then you are, too."
Two of the high-ranking Free Folk, including Tormund, did not appreciate Jon Snow's accusatory tone. Mance Rayder, however, felt impressed by the boy's boldness.
"Why do you want to join us, Jon Snow?" he asked again.
"I want to be free," Jon said simply.
Mance did not buy it. "No, I don't think so. I think what you want most of all is to be a hero. I'll ask you one last time, why do you want to join us?"
Jon kept his mouth shut, his mind wandering to what had occurred earlier whilst with other Watchmen of the ranging party at Craster's Keep.
ooOoo
The Night's Watch ranging party was forced to move on when Jon Snow followed Craster into the woods and saw him leaving a son for the White Walkers to claim the infant. However, Craster caught and beats him.
"Out, all of you!" Craster spat. "Bastard's been meddling where he shouldn't! I want you and your men gone. And you will make this right."
Lord Commander Jeor Mormont displayed a disappointed look on his face as he looked at his steward. "Wait outside," he ordered.
"Lord Commander," Jon tried to protest.
"NOW!" the Old Bear hollered.
Jon Snow did as he was told and left, grumbling on the way. Finally once things had died down and Jeor managed to calm Craster, the Old Bear confronted Jon outside.
"What did you do?" Jeor glared at him.
"I followed him," Jon answered. "He took the baby into the woods, the newborn."
"What business is that of yours?"
"No, you don't understand! He's killing them, all the boys—"
Jon stopped once he saw Jeor did not appear to be surprised at all.
"You know…" he realized.
"The wildlings serve crueler Gods than you or I," Jeor finally spoke. "Those boys are Craster's offerings."
"'Offerings'?" Jon said rather bewildered. "He's murdering his own children! He's a monster!"
The Old Bear nodded. "Aye, many a time that monster has been the difference between life and death for our Rangers. Your uncle Benjen among them. We have other wars to fight out there. Like it or not, we need men like Craster."
"I… I saw it. I saw… Something take that child."
"Yeah. Whatever it was, I daresay you'll see it again," Jeor confirmed. "Now ready my horse. We leave at dawn."
ooOoo
"Well?" Tormund demanded, breaking Jon's concentration.
Finally gathering his wits, Jon finally began talking. "I saw…"
"You saw what?" said Mance.
"I saw Craster take his own baby boy and leave it in the woods," he answered. "I saw what took it."
Mance furrowed his brow as his facial expression changed. "You're telling me you saw one of them?"
Jon nodded.
"And why would that make you desert your brothers?"
"Because when I told the Lord Commander, he already knew," Jon replied. "Thousands of years ago, the First Men defeated the White Walkers. I want to fight for the side that fights for the living. Did I come to the right place?"
Mance Rayder continued staring at Jon Snow, taking in the words that came out of his mouth. Finally after a few minutes, the King-Beyond-the-Wall made his decision.
"We'll need to find you a new cloak."
######
At Pyke…
The gulls cawed, the waves crashed against the shores. Ships had been sailing everywhere. Theon Greyjoy had returned to the Iron Islands, but he'd been grumbling the whole way on his trip. He hadn't set foot on the Iron Islands, especially Pyke, since he was 10 years old. He'd been given to House Stark as a hostage after his father's failed rebellion and had no contact with his family since then. To be home now after so long, Theon had been expecting a warm welcome. To his great surprise, he got the exact opposite—even from his female traveling companion.
"Have my things sent up to the castle," Theon demanded.
"I'm a better rider than you," she teased.
"I've been on horseback for the past eleven years," Theon retorted.
"Eleven years? Do you still know your way around a ship?" she said as she felt Theon's hands around her waist, struggling with the outfit's strings.
"Don't you worry about my hands," Theon replied. "The sea is in my blood."
He tried to unfasten her outfit, but briefly yelped when she smacked his hands away.
"Your blood will be in the sea if I don't watch where I'm going," she warned him.
After a long ride, the two had finally managed to arrive at Pyke's gates. The doors opened, and Theon entered the Great Hall where he saw his father, Lord Balon Greyjoy, sitting in front of an open fire. The sigil of House Greyjoy, the kraken, hanged above the fireplace. As the wood burned and sparks made crackling sounds, Theon slowly approached the man he hadn't seen in so many years.
"Father," he called out.
"Eleven years, is it?" Balon asked without looking at his last surviving son. "They took a frightened boy. What have they given back?"
"A man," Theon answered. "Your blood and your heir."
Balon wasn't convinced. "We shall see. Stark had you longer than I did."
"Lord Stark is gone," his son countered. "He perished at King's Landing defending the Oathkeeper from invaders."
"So the Usurper's brat's acquired a new name for himself, has he…?" Balon said coldly as he turned to face Theon. His gaunt, hard face with hard eyes and long grey hair that was balding slightly on the top of his head. "And how do you feel about that? Stark being dead?"
Theon felt the atmosphere of the room change. He was a Greyjoy, but the Starks were never unkind to him when he was their ward/hostage. In fact, they treated Theon as if he were one of their own. Still, he hated at having the thought of choosing between being a Greyjoy or a Stark.
"What's done is done," Theon finally admitted. "I've brought you a request from Robb Stark."
Balon eyed his son up and down, noticing Theon's fancy attire.
"Who gave you those clothes?" he asked rather coldly as Balon rose from his seat. "Was it Ned Stark's pleasure to make you his daughter?"
Theon felt his jaws clench. "If my clothes offend you, I'll change them."
"You will," his father replied. Balon leaned in and noticed the pendant Theon wore. "That bauble 'round your neck… Did you pay the iron price for it, or the gold?"
Theon said nothing as he looked down feeling humiliated, his fingers fidgeting with the pendant.
"I asked a question," Balon's voice rose. "Did you pull it from the neck of a corpse you made or did you buy it to match your fine clothes? Iron or gold?"
"Gold," Theon admitted shamefully.
Balon looked incredibly disappointed at Theon's response. Grabbing his son's pendant and cloak, the Lord Reaper of Pyke ripped them off and watched as they fell to the ground.
"I'll not have my son dressed as a whore! My fears have come true. The Starks have made you theirs."
Theon felt his anger rise. "My blood is salt and iron!" he proclaimed.
"Yet the Stark boy sends you to me like a trained raven clutching his message," Balon countered mockingly.
"The offer he makes is one I proposed."
"He heeds your counsel?"
"I've lived with him," Theon nodded, "hunted with him, trained with him. He thinks of me as a brother."
At that Balon was angrily reminded of his two elder sons Rodrik and Maron, who both died in the rebellion against the Iron Throne on their father's behalf. He did not appreciate being reminded of that and quickly turned to face Theon.
"No," Balon snarled. "Not here, not in my hearing. You will not name him brother, this son of the man who put your true brothers to the sword. And the son of a dead king who played his part in it as well. Or have you forgotten your own blood?"
"I forget nothing!" Theon rebutted. "I remember my brothers. And I remember when my father was a king himself."
Balon looked at the parchment Theon held in his hand. He took it from his son and broke the wax and opened it up to read it.
"I see," he examined it. "A gift on behalf of House Greyjoy to Robb Stark's pretty little sister, a Stark girl who will soon be a Queen… to that Young Stag."
Theon quietly nodded rather meekly. "Yes, father. And your response?"
Balon shook his head as the main door opened again. Theon turned and noticed his companion waltzing into the Great Hall as if she owned the place.
"I told you to wait outside!" Theon exclaimed. "How did you get past the guards?"
"Anything with a cock is easy to fool," she replied.
Balon grinned. "My dear Yara," he greeted.
Theon blinked as he finally recognized who the older woman truly was, much to his deep embarrassment and humiliation.
"Yara?!" Theon said surprised.
"So good to see you, brother," Yara grinned. "This is a homecoming I'll tell my grandchildren about. Remember?"
"Father, you can't be serious!" Theon protested, realizing his sister had all but effectively replaced him as their father's heir.
"This isn't Winterfell, boy," Balon silenced him. "Your sister took over command of your eldest brother Rodrik's ship after your new father killed him."
"What's dead may never die," they all recited the words commonly associated with House Greyjoy as well as the faith of the Drowned God.
"The only nights she's spent off these islands have been spent on the sea," Balon explained as he threw the Robb Stark's letter into the fire. "She's commanded men. She's killed men. She knows who she is. And I know myself. I pay the iron price. That is who we have always been."
Theon was piecing together what his father was saying.
"Father," he tried to warn him. "Even if we did manage to successfully launch an attack on the mainland, they'll never stand for it. Daveth Baratheon will not stand for it. We simply don't have enough men. Our house and the Iron Islands will be wiped out this time."
Balon ignored him.
"What is dead may never die," he said simply. "And I will take my crown."
Theon gulped, knowing full well what this meant. It seems there will be another Greyjoy Rebellion after all. Except this time, House Greyjoy and the ironborn will be shown no mercy whatsoever.
Chapter End
######
Author's Note: Well, here you guys go; another chapter done after being absent for a while. I know it's not perfect, but… something's better than nothing, right? How do you guys think Daveth will react when he hears of the ironborn and wildling activities? Let me know.
Felon GT: The extinction of house Greyjoy. He will have Balon and all iron born following the old way crucifies
―I'm sure Daveth has something worse in mind for the Greyjoys.
BigWilly526: What is Balon hoping to do, there is no mass war in Westeros, as soon as he strikes the whole country will move on the Iron Islands, in this case he will be in even worse shape if he attacks the North because it just means that the areas with fleets to attack the Iron Islands wont hold back
―As Spanish philosopher George Santayana once said, "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
Oto Mustam: nice chapter
―Thanks.
Supremus85: Mah, Balon did learn something from his first rebellion, as, in Canon, he attacked when the kingdom was divided and weaker. his error was to not search for allies before he stroke; This is not the case in this AU, so, i do not think Balon would have attacked; and, since Theon this time actually know they can't win,and that Daveth will exterminate them, his good sense should prevail on his desire of approvation; He should send a raven warning Robb and Daveth of his father's treachery, and leave.
―I don't think Balon's the kind of guy who'd wait and gather allies before deciding to raid the Westerosi mainland. Theon on the other hand knows this pretty well since he spent more time with the Starks and garnered some degree of actual combat experience during the Battle of the Blackwater. The younger Greyjoy knows the consequences if Balon rebelled again and of what his ironborn brethren did to Daveth many years ago, yet still feels a bit of inner turmoil as to who he believes he should side with. We'll see in the next couple chapters.
Guest: Since Theon knows that there will be no mercy, does this mean that he will not join his fool of a father or will he still join the Ironborn?
―No spoilers permitted.
mpowers045: If Theon joins his family' side and if he dies during another Greyjoy Rebellion, at least he can die with his wang intact
―It's considered a lose-lose scenario for the ironborn either way.
Moshi: Oh, Theon was absolutely right. By the way, Ned Stark isn't the reason his sons are, Balon is. Well, may they rue the day they left their shitty little island.
Jon is following his book/show path, though he doesn't know of Ned's death yet, does he?
Ugh, again with Talisa, Robb? It would benefit him better to marry from the North or at least a Blackwood or Royce. Why did no one put the breaks on this? Yes, she is clearly a competent surgeon, but what does she add to the story? I kinda wish the show kept Jeyne Westerling.
―Balon seems like the kind of person who seems to never let go and always deflects blame.
―Jon pretty much knows about Ned's death, but doesn't communicate with anyone else outside Castle Black.
―As for the Talisa Maegyr/Jeyne Westerling, I honestly have no idea as to what the HBO directors were thinking. Might as well go with one of them.
C.E.W: With the Ironborn, with Theon I see only four options for him. He knows that the realm is well united under Daveth, and the last time they doubted a Baratheon having the full support of the Kingdoms let to their humiliating and divesting defeat. Theon should know better, considering the kingdoms were divided in the books and tv series, with Daveth not so much. Theon can either join his father's campaign and betray his friendship to Daveth and Robb which I suspect is deeper in this story. Or he can go against his blood family and side with Daveth, of course either of those two options is a death sentence for the Ironborn. Or he could step up and challenge his father for leadership of House Greyjoy. Balon will never drop his quest for revenge, and cannot see that he is leading the Iron Islands to destruction and for what? No Ironborn has forgotten their defeat in the rebellion, Theon still cares about his people... little bit. The fourth option, he could murder his father, forever be branded an outcast to his people and hope that someone who takes Balon's place is not going to lead the Ironborn to destruction. Other the later two choices is not a hundred-percent chance of securing the Ironborn's survival, but still a chance.
As for the Wildlings, Daveth will consider them a major concern, Robb will aim to return to the North as soon as he hears the news. Cersei will no doubt be concerned for Joffrey's safety, and will try to push Daveth and Tywin in revoking Joffrey's exile and get him to return home. Daveth of course will refuse, as far as he's concerned, Joffrey is dead to after what he did. Joffrey will mean to hurt Daveth, by targeting Jon no doubt.
―Interesting theory. You've really put a lot of thought into possible scenarios, haven't you?
kira444: This is literally a few hours after I dished out a comment about updates once a month...I'm so sorry. Real talk though, if you feel like you're gonna pass out-take a break. You're on a roll, we can grant you that at least.
―I swear it's not intentional.
Patty 4577: I don't know who's the bigger idiot. Robb for letting Theon go despite the consequences. Or Balon for repeating the same mistakes step by step.
―Robb's his father's son and Balon's unyielding his his philosophy. We'll let the readers be the judges. I'd really like to hear about their opinions about it.
The Three Stoogies: he will react with blood and iron the death of all Greyjoy's a good chapter can't wait to read more.
―They don't call House Baratheon's motto "Ours is the Fury" for nothing. And the rest of the world haven't seen Daveth unleash his yet.
Gilyflower: Glad to see an update
―Sorry it took so long :(