Theon Greyjoy,
"Our bloody King is a coward, my Lord. I am a veteran of Rhaegar's failed conquest of the Stepping Stones, and I saw first hand how he was a coward. Back than, I was nothing but one of Lord Quellon's proud serving shipman with me own crew and all , but I did him on his battlements of Lorelai's bay, running away like a chicken with no legs from the docking bay. He didn't stop to say hello to anyone, he just hopped aboard his ship Dark Sister and headed to Dorne immediately, just as he got the letter Lord Quellon had been killed in action and that the bay was surrounded with Essosi folks battleships. He left behind many dead on the very day he fled, and yet he still think of it's a victory. I don't understand how he could just get up and leave when we needed him the most, to lead us as Lord Quellion would've wanted the Prince of Dragonstone to have done in his place - but no that's not what he did, his actions that day were of a bloody coward, more or less, given that he took his entire fleet with him when he left." Lord Botley stared at him, before taking a bottle of whiskey off of his desk and drinking It whole, even as the deep, red licker ran down his blonde-coloured haired chin. He himself had heard stories of Lord Botley saving and caring for survivors that had been dragged of their ships by the catapults on the other ships. It was said he swam in the waves to save them himself, to keep them from dying terrible deaths under the waves, despite our mutual religion saying drowning was a good thing considering what is dead may never die... but Theon wouldn't give him too much shite over it, what he did that day was noble and braver than what most of the Seven Kingdoms thought about the Iron Isles.
Theon nodded, before taking a cup of fresh and clean spring water, before drinking it. Theon had never been much of a drinker, far preferring a clean mind to think about his actions rather than a wine-sodden one - a very practical mindset, in his opinion at least, though he did often drink from time to time or whenever he saw his father. Than he'd far prefer to be drunk than to face him, and his disapproval over everything he did. Or the fact he looked like Euron reborn to his Lordly father, but instead of having one blue eyes, he had one brown eye. It was a difference his father practically didn't see... "Cowardness runs deep in the Targaryens. They've always been scared of dying to the Sea God's wrath, even if it was their destiny to do so, Botley. It's why they are so scared when we invade their Greenland's rich coasts, because they know we can win on the blessed seas of our ancestors, whilst they can only survive on their petty little Greenlands - although, I'm not my uncle Aerion about this." He shrugged, sitting on his black leathered chair, staring at Botley whilst he collected himself more water from the clear cylinder he had placed on the coffee table's grey coloured placemat.
"Indeed, mate." He joined Theon on the couch's surface. He was a large, lanky man with almost golden-blonde hair and deep sea-green eyes to add to it. "Cowardness. Yet now we have to fight a similar war here, against the same foes as during Prince Rhaegar's failed conquest. I wonder if King Rhaegar will get his arse off his Iron Throne to go save us? Or if he'll just be content to let us all die here, like he did previously, in preference for fucking his unholy sister-wife." Theon didn't know if he would indeed help he, and didn't care very much, honestly. He simply continued drinking from his cup, and thought about his nuncle Euron. He remembered defeating the man by some blessed miracle of the Sea God; he had never been a devout Seven worshipper as far as it went, even though his Lannister wife had insisted they married in the light of the Seven, even though he'd been very reluctant to do so. He didn't even want or wish to raise his children under the Seven - he told his wife this when she was first pregnant with Jon, but he doubted she listened to him, even when he brought up what happened to the last Lannister Queen of the Iron Isles, and what happened there, what happened to her when her own second son let her be murdered and mutilated by his own mates. Or what happened to the first son of Lelia Lannister and Hagon II the Haggler, of whom was overthrown as he was mutated and mutilated like his own mother Lelia was before him. Honestly, he himself was no believer in the Seven, despite living with the Lannisters for some years in his youth as their prisoner- they had to see it, the Ironborn did - he'd convince them of it surely, that he wasn't going to be Harmond the Haggler nor Harmond the Handsome. He would live by there rules, and he'd make sure his children did as well.
He sighed "I would rather die a good man than the bad man my nuncle Euron Crow-Eyed cursed me as upon his death bed." He responded, simply. His nuncle hadn't died by his own hands, but his nuncle Euron had been killed by Thundering Tom, his first mate aboard his flagship of Dark Star . He was a strong, robust man of Summer Isles origin, although he had been expelled from the Isles a few years ago, and landed in the Fair Isles to help the Fairmen. That House in particular didn't like him during his stay with the Lannister's of Casterly Rock, and often spat at him when they came to visit from their islands. Indeed, they even said that Good Quellon, his own gramps, wasn't so good as to not raid them for the gold needed for his own resurrection of modern values into their culture. At that, he was tempted to sight in despair at that - how was he supposed to do it if not even he, the Good Greyjoy, could resist not invading the Westerlands? That would make him a hypocrite, but that wasn't his goal for the Iron Isles as it was - he didn't know what he'd do actually, when he became Lord of Pyke and Lord Paramount of the Iron Isles - would he really risk pissing of an already angry Aerion with new laws and reforms? That man had been furious at him for marrying his current wife In the fashion he did, and thought he took faith with the Seven of all religions... It was actually rather tiresome to think about what Aerion would do when he become Lord of Pyke - though, he did like Victorian in a fashion, given that he was the only one to thank him for ridding the world of Euron Greyjoy the Kinslayer.
"Just because your missing an eye doesn't make you Euron Crow-eye." Not everyone thought this of course,- his own father included, of whom showed very limited sympathy for the fact he nearly died from being attacked by his genocidal younger brother Euron, when he brought back the ship of mutes back to Pyke. He even lost a limb to the Crow-Eye's valyrian steels word of Squid. There was also another valyrian sword though left from the Crow's Eye's ship, but it was hidden away, in a very secret location which he himself knew about, less someone blabs about it to another. His father also told him that he should get a Salt Wife too, for those long journeys away from his true lawful wife, which prompted Theon to question if his father did similar things towards his own mother when he went reavings, which had resulted In Balon being silent as he stormed off back to his own ship.
"It helps that both of my eyes are brown, really." He muttered, rolling his one eye. "But though, really. My nuncle did curse me though. Did I tell how he died? Me first mate, Thundering Tom saved me from what I could attest to be certain doom, as I was bleedin' out on my left stump that the man had cut off during our duel, and valiantly saved me from the crow's eyes wrath by stabbin' 'em in the back from above the reaper with another Valyrian sword he had found scattered about on one of the corpses of our slayed foes" He had asked how Thunderous Tom had obtained such a weapon in such a timely fashion, and when he needed it the most amongst other things, and his response was that he found on the belt-buckle of one the silent men. Theon wondered what his nuncle was thinking in the name of the Sea God to place Valyrian steel in a location where someone could easily steal it from him. "just as the man had jumped on top of me, and I was quickly losing consciousness due to losing a great deal of blood due to the injuries I was given and all.. Though, I can still remember that malice smile of his; he bent down whispered something In me ear 'bout raping me to death, as took one of his large, rough hands and messed with my hair - of which he said I had hair like a girl's, so soft and smooth, so unnatural for a man's. I can remember his foul breath over me, as he whispered In my ear - it smelled distinctively of somethin' unwashed and abided. I can remember him undoing his pants... zip, zip, zip... and than I can remember blood and gore rushing all over me, as he was stabbed straight in the gutter" Theon often imaged that scenario playing out, and felt a level of disgust towards his nuncle that he couldn't quite place. "When he was dying besides me on those blood stained decks, his last words to me were to curse me as a future kinslayer in the name of our Sea God, though I did no killin' of any me own blood that day." He wondered what kind of a man would slay another of the same blood? Why? The Gods do not look kindly upon Kinslayers, and he hoped that they caused hell on Euron Greyjoy's twisted soul, whenever he was.
Botley nodded. Usually, he'd tell his wife these things privately whilst they fucked - but she wasn't here, though he was planning on going to Lannisport to collect her, and bring her here to Lys. He knew she'd love it too - she was always the ever-so adventurous, bold kind of woman, and he just adored those things about her, considering she was more of his family than his true family was. Though, his father would never see this, because all he saw was a sweet, docile Lannister girl he brought into their family without 'care' or 'consideration'- when she was as bold and brash as Asha, and had such spirit, such energy, even despite being a mother of all things - she drove him crazy sometimes with her high energy attitude but he loved her all the same. So, Boltley would have to do - for now at least.
"Don't trust the words of Euron, they are surely poisoned, Theon. Victorian will tell you the exact same thing - do not trust his words, or his gifts. They are all poisoned, as surely as he is." Of course Botley would say that. He nodded indifferently, before standing up to look out the little window nearby to stare out into the vast open sea from his closed hatch. Euron also said that he had killed several of his brothers too, fully admitted it before they started fighting - he said he killed his older brother with grayscale... assaulted another... and wished for his own father's head on a silver plate, to be bronzed for exiling him from Pyke, though he said that his own head would make a nice place on his shelf of skulls as a replacement for his own father's. Theon didn't know how he would've won the duel, but was gladdened that somehow, that he did somehow, even though it did come at a sharp prize though.
"I know. I wouldn't trust the words of someone already cursed with the Gods." He whispered, nonchalantly, his one brown eye staring at his valyrian steel-sword he had brought out to admire. It was made for one hand fortunately so his right dominant hand could hold it, and strangely, Theon found it was most beautiful sword he had ever seen, with grey and blue curved blade - he touched it's sharp tip, drawing some deep red blood from his finger as he did so. He remember his nuncle slicing off his left hand with this very blade, and him slumping to the ground as blood poured out of the wound, Theon could see the mute men around him watching him, with their unsettling auroras. He could see him slicing off his eye, as he tried not screaming in utter agony, given how his body felt . He didn't know why he didn't die that day or why he didn't just kill him considering he had Theon at a great advantage, as he himself was virtually unharmed and unscratched, and Euron Crow-Eye wasn't even wearing his Valyrian armour that day, for some reason. Honestly, Theon didn't understand much of his uncle's decisions that day - with him not killing him when he had the chance, to leaving a bloody valyrian sword out in the blue, to not wearing his Valyrian armor… Maybe, he thought What is dead may never die like a true Iron Islander, but Theon actually believed he was dead. Dead as a doorknob, for all he cared.
Artos Snow
"I have a grandson, you know, Artos." Jeor said, in that same dour tone he always had. "He was named after your father, or so I hear. I hope my sister is taking good care of the lad..." He sounded a bit distant, as though he was dreaming or something, but it was not the usual voice the Lord Commander had. It was far softer than usual. Artos didn't know whenever he should feel bad or not for the old man, as he filled the man's cup with some hot coffee. He had been officiated to the Lord Commander's personal steward after he swore his vows under the holy light of the Old Gods, whilst his friend of sorts, Samwell Tarly had joined him as well in this. He honestly thought that fat boy would've died without him there to save him from those... men in the courtyard - though Lord Hightower, the master-at-arms, had told him sharply that he was bullying them, for he was nobly raised and most of them were not, thus making him the one that was bullying him instead of the other way around.
"Have you considered visiting him, Lord-Commander?" Artos asked. Why not visit family? They were surely important, as it was, or at least to Artos; he had always found family to be the most important thing thus far in his life, disregarding his own ill-tempered mum. Whenever he had visited the Starks, he had cuddled and hugged with Arya, as she fought with her weapon Needle. He found that aspect of her to be invigorating and awe-striking, as she went after and attacked a many men, with great precision indeed, despite her small size. He told her how amazing he found her, which got him a soft hug from the little one, whom thanked him. Sansa said nothing to him, Edric say very little but was polite all the same, Torrhen liked him too considering he was a little boy of all things, and his brother Cregan was busy elsewhere, being moody or so his Lord father said with a chuckle. However, Artos liked all of his siblings, despite not knowing them very well - he sure would've liked too though, if he was given the opportunity, but Lady Stark took that dream and snatched it to a hundred tiny pieces because when she saw how well he got along with Arya, she had disbarred him from visiting Winterfell claiming he was a slight to her honour. He vaguely recalled crying that day.
"Yes, but boy, visiting family when your in the Night's Watch is fruitless, even though I'm certain that he'd like it if I decided to visited him though.." At that moment, Artos did indeed start feeling bad for the old man. He couldn't visit his own family because of... whatever reason he had.. Artos himself secretly doubted his lady mother cared whenever he lived or died out here, because he himself was a sin of her conscientiousness - and she never let him forget this fact, as he grew older, though she never hated him, per say she just treated him how she'd treat a Maester - coolly. After she at long last married Lord Dustin, she along with his own Lord father, had decided to send him to the wall to make sure he wasn't a threat to his half-sibling's of either Dustin or Stark origin.
"Why not visit him? If you say he'd like it, and if... if you want too... Why not do it, Lord Commander? You'd hurt nobody 'ere if you did it." Artos replied, looking down and slightly shuffling his feet. Artos wasn't the best judge of the these kind of things, but he did know something about family trust and loyalty. His Ryswell grandfather had taught him how to ride horses, and had been his best friend when he was younger. He was brave and bold - his father parental figure, the one to look up too when he was a young chap - he had been the one gave Artos his beloved current pony, Strider. Strider was beautiful and he raised him personally from birth to now with his own hands and a bottle of mother's milk. Indeed, he loved horses due to his grandfather, of whom gave him his current passion for horses.
"Because it would give people bad ideas, that they could go visit their own family if I did so."
"Well, that's a awful shame, Lord Mormont." He sighed.
"On to another topic, of the great ranging I have in store." Artos knew that he was taking two hundred seasoned men with him (three-quarters of them rangers) whilst the Half-hand was taking another hundred from the Shadow Tower and old blind Aemon Targaryen's own personal steward, Richard Blackwood, a level-headed young man by all accounts, would be taking on the haunted forest. He knew of Richard - they were well-acquainted indeed, and he found Richard to be gallant, well-educated and most importantly brave - and like him, felt stuck being some steward. They had actually bonded over this fact, and he found himself admiring Richard, in some ways - he was the prime example of what one of those Ser's should be, in his temperament at least, and the two of them shared a mutual love of horses - which Richard blamed on his grandmother, a Ryswell, which Artos found interesting. "Your to join me on this outing, my boy." He smiled one of those rare smiles. He felt his heart beat a step as he said this.
"Really, Lord? I'm glad and honoured that you'd let me join!" He smiled, extremely happily at having collected this information. Artos now wondered what he'd do now - would Lord Mormont made him go hunt on his horse? He was a wicked horsemen, and most men could not defeat him in a horse-race - and most importantly, he felt so free when he road on Strider. He felt as though he could do anything, even though he'd been having wolfy dreams as of late - he could see a red-haired girl with a bunch of lightly armed men besides her, running without much of a trace on the soft snows beneath their leathered feet, and he could see blood on his teeth, as he saw himself eat and tear into the corpse of a deer. He'd never use to have wolfy dreams before his friend came about - and he even had some dreams where he road fast and free on the road, with nothing keeping him back, as he did so. Maybe he was just as horse-crazed as his mother claimed he was, considering he nearly spent of all of his youth in the barnyard, helping caring for the new fowls his grandfather breed, but now his dreams changed. When he was younger and still with his own foul, he felt as he felt - scared, panicky, and what-not, before Strider got up and ran on his tiny feet away. Was this related to feeling like that as a child? Artos vaguely wondered.
"Yes, but your to collect the horses, feed them, and what-not before we leave. I trust you to do so, considering you smell like you've been in there sleepin' with them." It was likely because Artos spent all night worrying about Strider and his own dog that he had trapped in there. If there was one thing with Artos, is that he loved and cherished his pets when he had them. His last dog had died, tragically after a bloody hunter had shot her, which led Artos to feel highly depressed for many days afterwards - he had even buried the dog under their weirwood tree, and hoped that the old Gods would take her soul. He didn't want Winter to die, not like his puppy that didn't get to it's life to the fullest extent.
He brightly smiled at that. "I worry 'bout my animals, my Lord. I was raised by a horse-breeder, my Lord, I was trained into being exactly like that." That also explained why he smelt like a horse, actually. He spent a lot of time with his horse, when he wasn't fighting with the other boys - or saving boys like Samwell Tarly from certain doom, though he was doomed already, given that the Lord had refused to take him into the Night's Watch and sent him back home in disgrace, which he considered rather unfortunate. He didn't really know Samwell - so why defend him? His Lord father might kill him - like he said, but why did Artos care? He clearly wasn't suited for the Watch, and was far suited as a Maester or something other, not a Black Brother. That was what Artos believed, at least.
The Lord Commander nodded, before sending him to do that like in a King style, though King Rhaegar didn't seem to care very much about the Night's Watch. That silver-haired King was sitting in King's Landing, doing Gods know what, but whatever it was it had very little to do with the Night's Watch. He remembered the King visiting the North though - he had sliver-gold locks of hair, of which was placed in Aegon's Vs simple equest golden ring of a crown, and wore simple raven-coloured armour all the same. He also ignored Artos of course, whom was visiting at the time with his Lady mother - though they had placed him at the Bastard's table, with a load of mean bumpkins. They stared and judged him, but than again, even at the Rylls, did people judge his bastardy. He had been tempted to beat the living dickens out of them with his sword, but Prince Aegon had stopped him for some reason. Prince Aegon, the one that died recently, had talked to him of all people, which caused some whispers across the table. He found Prince Aegon to be everything a Prince should be, and even-more, given how he had no problems talking to anyone, that included small-folk, and wasn't even afraid to befriend himself... He found Prince Aegon to be an enigma of a nobly Prince, because not even his own charitable father had been like that - so charismatic, so charming, so everything - and it was unbelievably sad how such a Prince could die so young. He wondered how he died anyhow, but nobody seemed concerned how he died, as much as that he did, given that it mucked everything up and caused a political upheaval not seen since Aegon V's death.
Asha Greyjoy
Asha remembered her first meeting with her brother, Theon. He had seemed so very serious to Asha, but yet so very handsome, with deep brown-coloured hair and his eyes, now they were the kind a girl could fall in love with, even despite them having the same eye colour, something were em very appealing to someone like her, at least. Though, he paid her with as much attention as he would anyone else that wasn't their father, which was very minimalistic in nature and he acted as though he was on a mission- and he didn't even know whom she was when she had pretended to be that married washerwoman either, but he didn't so much as touch her though when she had been. He had been very courteous, well-mannered, but also a bit moody, but than again, he was half-a boy, as her nuncle Victorian said when he first saw him. He had also worn what sailors would usually wear when on the move, aka modest and well-worn clothing, and he had decided on only one sign of wealth on him, a golden-ring to symbolize his marriage to that Lannister woman.
"Father, we should help Theon." Asha stared at her father, as he sat with his maps. He hadn't even held one of Theon's children, his own grandchildren, yet because of foolish pride, the same kind of foolish pride that had lost Theon to begin with. Though, he was holding her own babe though. That boy was the last and only child she'd ever give life too, and she hoped Aleksander would know this. Though, Al seemed fine with it, considering he had other siblings - like Tris, whom once bothered her, before Aleksander had beaten the living shite of him and told him to stay away from her... Asha was fairly sure that the act of kinslaying had stayed his hand in this though, but he did promise to exile him for pestering her so with his clearly unrequited love for her when he became Lord of Lordsport in his own right. Tis was a shame he was with Theon right now, he was the best man to fuck on the entire island - he had quite the masterpiece of an underbelly, if one catches her drift.
"No. He's married to the Greenlands, with their vile, adherent religion that has tried countless times to convert us on the Iron Isles into peace-loving maggots of all things. Why, we do not bend, we sow, Asha. I have taught you this, and that's the truth of it." He was snarling, and sounded rather angry about this fact, as he stared at her with those furious deep brown eyes of his.
She sighed. "We earn nothing from alienating him. He's a good, oh fook, better man that I would've believed possible. He brought you back the Silencer in prime condition with most of its crew intact, he has your bloody grandchildren... My nephews, for bloody sakes, and he even... You know, what father, it brings you ill-will to alienate your own family." Asha did indeed, wish to visit her nephews at Lannisport, and to see their bright faces, as Theon so described. He seemed happy, in a way that she could never truly believe given that he was a prisoner to the Lannisters for a neat ten years of his life, as he talked about his current family to her. He described his wife as being very strong willed and having the heart of a lion with how brave she seemed to him, and he loved his firstborn, Jon. Indeed, she was going to visit them, regardless of what this old cotter thought about it. She wasn't taught to be some silent wallflower or be a wee innocent maiden by her mum Alyanns or at least before she went mad with grief for her dead and missing sons. She sometimes visited her, though she wasn't sure her own father visited her, or if he cared really, give how their marriage had deteriorated before her very eyes. Theon had been tempted too, and probably would've, but his mission at hand had stopped him from doing so, though he claimed he would... someday at least, which was a sobering thought indeed.
"I don't need lecturing from you girl, on what I should and shouldn't do." He slammed his hand on the table with such force that it had made her boy cry, as he toddled towards her clearly scared. She picked him up, and put him on her hip.
"Well, now you've gone and scared little Artos." She was tempted to say far worse things to him for that act, but her wanting a normal relation with him stayed her hand on the matter. She put a hand on her hip, and gave him a tementatious look before storming out with her child. Asha didn't honestly want to hear anything from him, as she left him there to stew. No doubt he'd come running out to apologise to her, one way or another, but for right now, she didn't want to hear it. Neither from nuncle Aerion either, of whom also choice to ignore his virtues. For the longest time she had thought that Theon would be an arrogant little sod, when she saw him for the first time in a generation, but he actually blew her expectations though. He however, had turned out to be a well-adjusted young man, at least to her he did, though he did kind of break-down In a not so pleasant way when dealing with their father for the first time...
As she turned the corner, she felt corned by Aerion, one of her mad nuncle's, came rushing out to greet her in his usual unwashed way. Indeed, Asha found him a tad bit creepy at times, and not in a good way. She sighed, staring at him.
"Yes, Nuncle? I was off to see Lordsport, maybeh take care of it, and take of me ride and wandering the seas whilst leavin' me little one at home with 'is nursemaid. She flashed a smile at him, which of course the old man didn't recuperate. Aerion never smiled, not after being nearly drowned near the Stepping Stones after his craft had capsulated on one of the straits, and many of men lost their lives during that capsulation, though all of them were now feastin' with mermaids and other creatures under the blue waves with the eternal Sea God. Aerion had claimed to have seen mermaids that day forth sent by the Sea God from his underwater palace, and thus became one of his servants, now and forever, even though Asha now considered him the Unwashed one though, considering he barely bathed or cut his hair after becoming a priest of the Old God.
"Yes. I also heard you defending the one that married the Lannister like the Harrens did before him. Do not waste your time with him..." She found herself listening to one of his rants about Theon without a single smile on her face. She was actually feeling very tired of listening to this talk about her younger brother, and was about willing to punch someone in the face for it. No matter if they were holy-blessed or nought, it matter very little to her or her fists whom they hit at this minute.
"Get out of my way, nuncle." She replied instead, before walking past him, with her babe. She didn't want to hear him preach, not now at least. Maybe later, she'd be willing to join him, but for now she was off to be her own Queen abroad her vessel. She'd soar across the seas, on her ride, and forgot about her troubles - forgot about her brother, her father, everyone, and just enjoy the waves rolling under feet, the fresh smell of salt coming in from the waves following her trail, as she rode on towards her goal. Maybe, she'd even stop back and great 'er brother, of whom was currently on that paradise of an island, and her husband too. She wanted to be re-acquainted with him, if not for at least a minute, before her father recalled her back 'ere, or wanted to apologise to her. Either one would be fine.
She walked down Lord's port, holding her tod's hand as she set him down onto the floor. He was of course, curious about the people around him, as he stared around with those large muddy brown-colored eyes of his. He also wore the House Insigma of House Botley on his little plain-wead made attire that she herself had personally made for him simply to improve own sewing abilities. Indeed, she had wrecked most of her gear with numerous holes and such, and thus she wished to learn how to do so; and what better test-subject was there than a willing babe of all thing? So far, her outfit seemed fine, and sturdy, but she'd give it more time before she made that call for certain.
She sighed, continuing on her way on the port. She'd leave him with a nanny, as she left to Lys to meet her husband. He'd be fine, given that he was surrounded by one of the strongest forts in all of the Iron Isles. Lord's Port, unlike Pyke, was wealthy because of trade with the mainland - a flaw of the town, according to her father and the priests, of whom judged it harshly for it's peaceful, greenlands ways, even though the town was bustling with traders and full of fishermen, and all sorts of people, exotic or otherwise. Indeed, most people tended to live in Lordsport, if they wished to live peacefully, that was. Some people lived in raiding towns alongside the raiders, of whom at a moment's notice would take flight to attack the Green-lands - though, right now, several of them were in the North, because of cowardness on her father's behalf of whom was mainly scared of Tywin Lannister. He didn't say it, not obviously, but after her brother had been taken by the Lion Lord, he had stop raiding the Westerlands seemly altogether, though there was talk of another raid on the Fair-Isles though. But time would sing it's tune to see if her father would do it or not.
