Hey guys! I am so thankful that the response to the sequel to Sail Away has been so overwhelmingly positive! Thank you to all the reviewers and all of those who have followed and favorited this story, I really hope I won't let you down.
COUPLE OF THINGS BEFORE WE KICK OFF
-For everyone who is caught up with the show, you might recognize some of the dialogue happening, but it's mostly because I loved it, and because I thought a lot of it fits the story. I won't be copying the show's story line, but I will take a lot of it as creative inspiration for the way the war will develop (Dany is very OP with her 3 dragons, but I don't know about all the character deaths happening, at least not so quickly, that is a fair warning that a lot of people will die in this sequel, and it'll suck but it is necessary)
-I've decided to try and post more often, so a lot of these chapters will be shorter than they used to be in Sail Away, so we're probably looking at 20-25 chapters by the end instead of 10-15.
-You'll also notice that with the story moving to Westeros there will be a lot more characters, so the scene changes will have the house words of the character whose POV is up, in case they don't have that (Like the Unsullied) I'll come up with something else that will be on the author notes.
-For Dany and Yara/When Two main characters are in the same scene, I might include both words separated by a slash, with the most senior/more powerful house going first. (ie: If Sansa and Steffon share a scene, the scene break will be -Winter is Coming/We Stand Together-)
-Jon Snow gets his own words, separate from Sansa, Bran and Arya, because… well if you're caught up with the show, and know R+L stuff you'll know why.
Enough of me though! Let's get to the episode!
Fire and Iron
A War To Win
Dany sighed deeply, arms crossed over a marble handrail, overlooking the docks, where crates and horses and men were being unloaded tirelessly and efficiently into the dark granite castle, decorated with dragons by the Targaryens of old. Her hand ran across the surface of the handrail, sighing softly, almost as if in a dream.
"I promise the day break is far more beautiful in Pyke"
The strangeness of her surroundings were not helped by Yara's current outfit. The usual plate of armor and cloak was replaced by a brown linen overcoat with white sleeves, open enough at the top to give her skin some welcomed salt air, dark cotton trousers and the usual black boots that steadied her on land and sea. Despite the changes, Yara seemed at home, she was home, finally back to Westeros, and the unfamiliarity unsettled Daenerys to no end.
"Does it feel strange?" Yara's calloused hand reached out to Dany's soft arm, a small featherlight touch that sent shocks rushing through the young Targaryen queen "To be here, in this home you have always heard about"
"Would it be wrong of me to say yes?"
A small laugh escaped the ironborn, with a contagious grin that Daenerys realized the world never got to see-would never get to see-because it was just for her. Yara leaned her back against the handrail, making sure that her hand would be lightly resting against Dany's, providing all the support she knew her wife would need at the moment.
"Your family ruled over this land for many years. All your brother ever wanted was to come back, and that is all you have also wanted. Making it somewhere, something that has always been your goal, it is very daunting love"
"Westeros is very daunting"
Their weeks at sea made Yara and Daenerys very attuned to each other's quirks; Yara understood the different meanings of Dany's sighs, Dany was able to pick up on Yara's need to be alone sometimes (something she had learnt the hard way). At this moment, Yara was thankful for that insight, Daenerys' body language was begging for validation and distraction, and watching her men unload the iron fleet was not going to help.
Daenerys was startled out of her staring by Yara taking her hand, and softly pulling her towards their bedchamber "Come with me"
"Where do you think you are taking me Targaryen?"
Yara laughed, her voice coming out husky with desire, the near malevolous look provided the black eyepatch her wife sported made Daenerys squirm in her boots, if ever so slightly, the mischievous smile making her insides tingle "To paradise Greyjoy".
-We Do Not Sow-
"Tristifer Botley"
Theon rubbed the stubble on his cheeks, the little control he had gained for himself when his ship docked on the port at Pyke slipping from him. Watching his home, after having to leave over and over was hard, watching Botley of all people sunder about as if he owned the place made him revert to a place he thought he had abandoned a long time ago.
Theon was rarely allowed contact with people back home. The iron islanders had to become used to the idea that they no longer had a prince, an heir of Greyjoy lineage, so the few people he had ever met did not bother with him anymore. But sometimes he would receive a raven. Ned Stark was not heartless enough to extract Theon from everything he knew—At least not cold turkey.
That's where young Theon found himself, sitting by Maester Luwin in Winterfell's library, reading a letter from his sister Yara. In it she spoke about a boy Theon was well acquainted with, Tristifer Botley. He had been sent to be fostered by their mother, Alannys, to cope with the loss of all three of her sons. Yara was not very pleased, from what little she could see, Botley was going out of his way to get very well acquainted with the now eldest Greyjoy sibling.
The uncomfortable feeling in Yara's letters, few as they were, did not go away. Botley kept pushing the boundaries up until the day Alannys Harlaw was dead and making her way to the serve the drowned god. At a point, Balon Greyjoy had thought about the possibility of bethroding Yara to Tristifer; with his wife dead the possibility of him siring another heir, a male heir, was unlikely, and he refused to let the Salt Throne go to Victarion (who had no ability to rule over anything other than his own ship) or even worse, to Euron. Eventually, the idea was forgotten about, and Yara began training to have her own ship, and rule the islands; she forgot about Theon, Theon forgot about her,and they both forgot about Botley.
And here they were again, Theon faced with the hell that Yara had faced, alone, in a very large and fairly empty castle, with Tristifer Botley; an annoyingly insistent Tristifer Botley.
The harsh wind whispering past the window of his room, the room Botley had so generously provided him with, took Theon out of his stupor. The waves relentlessly slamming against the rocks that held castle Pyke reflected what his life was doing to Theon, a relentless slamming of one thing after another, trying to bring down the already unstable foundation he was perched on. A bad breeze at the wrong time would do more to knock him off that a million things coming at him, Tristifer asking about Yara's marital status and refusing to allow him passage inside the Throne room until he answered might just be what would do it.
"Greyjoy?" And here he comes again.
"Botley" Theon crossed his arms over his chest, spreading his legs wide, anything in body language that would tell Tristifer to know his place, and back off, Theon would do "This is not the time for social calls"
"The it is proper that I am not here on social duties" the sneer on his mouth and something shining in those green eyes that Theon could not decipher did more to make him shiver than the freezing winds coming from the sea "I will put it simply Greyjoy, your family is not wanted on the iron islands anymore"
"I figured that" Theon and his men had seen the half burnt kraken banners on their way into the castle, the looks of disdain in the faces of the few men that had stayed behind did not supply much comfort to the ironborn; all of the sudden traveling with Theon Greyjoy was a million times more dangerous than it had been when they had left for the north, where he was not well liked either "But me and my sister are not Euron and Balon Greyjoy"
"You are their kin, it is all the same to us" Tristifer picked off invisible dust from his cloak before crossing his hands in front of him, laying them on the pommel of his-well clearly not his-sword "I offer you a way around that. Marry your sister to me, you will keep your rule and she will be Queen of the iron islands, with me as her King of course"
The idea of telling Tristifer that Yara was already married, to a powerful queen with 3 gigantic fire spitting flying lizards was tempting, but his instincts told him that the small moment of happiness would not be effective in the long run.
"I am in no rush to consent to my sister marrying anyone. If I were to do that, she would have me drawn and quartered. The journey has been very long, so I will head to my quarters now, sleep well Botley" with all the posture of a prince, Theon walked away, swagger in his step, until he rounded the corner, breathing hard from the effort. One thing was true, he had not lied when he said that it had been a very long journey, now… Now he might just need a miracle.
-The Lone Wolf Dies, But the Pack Survives-
When one spends time in positions of power, or living with the family that holds all the power in the north, one tends to recognize a power leech. Jon Snow, King in the North, had never been more thankful for his ability to recognize a man who spins stories in order to get something from someone with more power than themselves; since departing from the twins, this sense had been working double time, Petyr Baelish being the cause for it, he was also the cause for Jon sleeping with one eye open and a dagger beneath his cloak since they had begun sharing a roof.
"Snow" Tormund rode up to meet the king in the North, making sure that his movements were brutish enough to scare Littlefinger away and give them some space "Why is the backstabber lord coming with us?"
Jon smirked, making sure that Lord Baelish was far enough away that his comments would not be heard, although he probably could imagine what was happening "He's the Mallister's liege lord, there is a lot of kissing asses and licking boots south of the wall, and this is part of that"
"North of the wall we would have left him in the cold, without food, let nature take care of him"
"Everyone in Westeros at some point must have wished that upon him" Ser Davos interjected, taking advantage of the new space that Littlefinger had allowed, perhaps not out of fear from Tormund Giantsbane, but out of caution "we should be arriving at Seagard by daybreak your grace, and if the winds are with us, we should see sunrise in Pyke"
"Is it possible to ask Lord Baelish to remain in Seagard until our return?"
"Your grace?"
"I've a feeling Tormund will toss him overboard if he were to ride with us to Pyke" a loud unapologetic laughter coming from the large wildling man let Ser Davos know that Jon was not remotely joking.
-Hear Me Roar-
"Ser Jaime Lannister here to see you, your grace" a small mousey servant attempted to stay as still as possible from the doorsill, waiting for the instructions from the all black clad blonde queen.
"Bring him in. And bring more wine, don't make me have to ask again, keep the decanter full" the small servant practically ran out of the room with the large silver object in her hand, before the bright green angry gaze of the Lannister queen could settle on her. Once outside she nearly crashed into the large figure of Jaime Lannister, clad in golden armor and a crimson red cape covering his shoulders.
"Ser Jaime, my apologies my lord" the small whisper caused Jamie's heart to go out to her, she was not the only servant-or the only person-in the Red Keep who seemed afraid to come anywhere near the Queen's residency, it was entirely possible that the smoking pile of ash and blood where the sept of Baelor used to stand would have something to do with that.
"Do not worry about it" the servant ran off, with her head down, before the small smile Jamie offered before it could reach her eyes. "Cersei"
"Took you long enough" It was a near shocker to see Cersei, standing in the balcony holding a glass of wine, with the rising smoke of the ruins framing her figure; at the same time though, it seemed a self fulfilling prophecy, something that he had felt was coming, for a long time.
"My apologies your grace, taking back an ancient castle and riding from the riverlands is rather time consuming. The commander of the Lannister forces does not exactly possess horse riding magic"
"You should have been here" Jamie took a step back from his position when Cersei turned. Her green eyes, those he had loved and lived through for so many years, were now cold "have you been to see Tommen?"
"Your new hand thought it prudent that I come up here before I see our son"
"He betrayed me" Cersei turned her back to him again, and while Jamie wanted to put the dark thoughts aside, it was entirely possible that she was smiling, admiring her handy work.
"He was alone. You left him alone. Tommen was a boy and he needed his mother"
"You left me alone when I needed you" their argument had gotten loud enough for the Kings—no, Queensguard—standing outside to be on alert. The fact that it was the mountain caused Jamie's hand to rest near enough to his sword, in case he needed it "I did this to fix his mistake and he betrayed us. He was weak, and perhaps it is better like this"
"Cersei he was young and inexperienced and we failed him, that doesn't make him a traitor" Jamie huffed a breath out in exasperation, his foot hesitated in the air, thinking that perhaps approaching the volatile monarch was not the best idea for his health "if dying because of their mistakes makes them traitors, Joffrey, Myrcella, father, they're all traitors"
"Don't you dare…"
"you accusing Tommen of being a traitor is worst than what I'm saying to you"
"I loved them. I loved them all but they're dead and anything I say will not bring them back" Jamie approached her slowly, and Cersei did not know what it meant, that she didn't feel an overwhelming need to have him near her, but the idea of him not being around was worst, so she pretended. The queen's face twisted into an expression of pain and loss and longing, one that even Jamie couldn't see past. When she felt his arms around her, a sob that would put any actor in the known world to shame echoed across the room "we are here and we are the ones who matter Jamie, we need to stay together"
-Fire and Blood/We Do Not Sow-
"My Queens. Your Lord Hand and Lord Varys request your presence," The small, quiet servant stuck her head in the room, making sure that she had knocked before entering. Yara and Daenerys were loved and respected by their entire staff, but it was also common knowledge that a closed door with a hung cape meant they wanted privacy.
The room that they had allocated to themselves in the grand castle was, in of itself, a reflection of the theme of the large island. The four poster bed was made of dark wood, and had a carving of a dragon, spreading its wings above the header. The room had a large living area, and a large balcony where the sizeable fleet was visible. Most if not all of the furniture in the room was dark wood, with the only speck of light being the white bed sheets the queens were wrapped in.
"Please inform Lord Tyrion and Lord Varys that we will meet them as soon as possible" Dany's soft voice sighed out, she was completely covered by the bed sheets, her head resting on Yara's chest, enjoying the light touching the hardened ironborn captain was giving to her hair, it almost seemed criminal to have to leave the room.
"Yes my queen" the servant made sure to replace the dark cape on the hook of the door before making her swift way down to the large stockroom, where all the staff was working double time to get the castle into working condition.
"It is so incredibly painful to have to plan a rebellion when we're so comfortable just resting here"
"I thought Westeros getting a whiff of how soft hearted Yara Greyjoy-Targaryen Princess and Queen of the Iron Islands-really is, she rather lay in bed all day than plan to raid and pillage"
"They would crown me Queen of everything if they heard I rather lay in bed with the most beautiful woman in the world my love"
"You are incorrigible" Dany pecked the scar that split Yara's right eyebrow, making sure to smile when her wife sighed happily "we have a war to plan"
"We have a war to win"