When Tom walked back into the hall, he was surprised to see Rhaenys already up and about, and dragging Visenya behind her, a look of exasperation on her sister's face, "My Lady, I'm pleased to see you and about. How are you feeling?"

She paused for a moment a slight look of melancholy on her face, "As well as the circumstances warrant, but there is something that we must discuss now. My sister has been telling me tall tales of of magic powers. She claims that you can breath fire and ice, can blast open doors and shatter walls with a shout, even that it was you who healed me with but a phrase!"

"Sister," Visenya warned, "Do not taunt the Dovahkiin..."

"Sister, we both know I dabbled in Valyrian magics of old when I was young, and as we both know, whatever power those spells ever possessed is long gone. I find your claim that this man is somehow able to do things that even the dragonlords of could not to be absolutely preposterous."

"How else did I take this fort? As brave as my men are they're fishermen not warriors." Tom asked, hungry and thirsty and now more than a little snappy that this woman, whom he'd just saved from dying, was now trying to read him the riot act.

"Not without evidence," She then strode right up to Tom, her face inches from him. "If you can really do these things then show me."

"Rinni, please..." Visenya said wided eyed and a bit pale, before turning to Tom. "Please don't set her on fire, I do love her, even if she is being very very stupid."

Rhaenys snorted in contempt. "This isn't like you."

"And it isn't like you to stick your head in a dragon's maw," Visenya snapped.

"This man, he is no dragon."

Tom's eyes twitched, he was tired, hungry, his throat felt like sandpaper, and now this ungrateful little bitch was questioning him?

He thundered over towards a fireplace, unlit but set for a fire with the wood piled high. Taking a deep breath he bellowed out, "YOL TOOR" A massive jet of flames shot from his mouth, enveloping the fire and almost billowing back out from the fireplace. He held the flames for as long as he could then shut his mouth, killing the flame. The wood in the fireplace was completely consumed, only hot ash remained.

He turned back to the stunned woman and thundered back towards her, fury blazing in his eyes, "Are you convinced now or does the wittle doggie have to do another trick?"

Rhaenys's reply was simple and to the point. She stood there, eyes wide, her mouth agape, completely dumbfounded by what she'd just seen.

"Close your mouth, little sister," Visenya said with a smirk so insufferable, you'd expect to see it on Bannon, "You're going to catch flies.'

"Are you convinced? Good, now if you'll excuse me I want something to fucking eat!"

He nearly stumbled into Ana who was standing right behind him, carrying a large platter generously laden with bread, cheese, and pickled fish. "I thought you might be hungry, m'lord!"

Tom stared, a little bit stunned at how quickly she had shown up but he couldn't help but smile, "Ana," he sigh with a sigh, "You're a blessing you know that? Just let me take that and..."

He reached out to take the tray but she looked almost scandalized. "Please, m'lord! It wouldn't imagine! Please, just sit and allow me to serve you!"

He looked at her, slightly surprised as that was the most spirited he'd seen her, then he shrugged and said, "Alright then, if you feel so strongly about it then alright. Shall we?" He then gestured towards a table and the two of them walked side by side to said table.

Ana was almost glowing with pleasure as she placed the food before Tom, a brilliant smile across her face. "Would you like ale or wine, m'lord?"

Thinking back to the results his imbibing of wine had done to him a few days ago, he responded, "Ale sounds nice."

As soon as Ana had left the room, Visenya shot him a scathing look. "Tom, are you intentionally collecting a comly peasant girl from every encounter, or are you really just that naive?"

The look of stunned confusion on his face could have been used as a picture description for the phrase. "What? No! That's just how my mother raised me, treat a women like she's a lady unless she proves otherwise."

"Tom," Visenya said dryly, "I believe I can say with much assuredness that neither your pretty little fishwife, nor your freshly liberated the slave girl are noble born."

Tom smirked and shook his head, "What I mean when I say 'a lady; doesn't mean she has to be noble born. It means that any woman should be treated with dignity and respect unless she proves by her actions alone that she doesn't deserve it."

"Your people have a very strange definition of the word 'lady'," Visenya remarked.

"You should be thankful," Tom replied with a wide smile, "Had my mother not raised me to be a gentleman, I probably would have left you to die."

Visenya flushed in annoyance. "You were raised to be a gentle man? That might explain why you are so soft and untrained in the ways of war. They should have raised you to be a warrior."

"The capacity for mercy isn't weakness, Visenya, and my people's culture is very different than your own." Tom's features hardened, "I strongly suggest you watch your mouth, especially when it involves my mother."

That left her silent as Tom turned back to the table to focus on his meal. As he lifted the first piece of bread though, he glanced to the side to see undivided Rhaenys attention focused on him, or rather the piece of bread within his hand. She didn't say a word, and tried to control her body language as much as possible, but he could see her eyes tracking it like a cat with a toy. Lightly she smacked her lips and...

He frowned deeply when he heard a slight rumble from her stomach from halfway across the hall. Yeah. She'd been deathly ill with fever for days, and probably hadn't had more than a couple bowls of broth, if that, the whole time.

Sighing deeply Tom muttered to himself, "And remember son, a gentleman always suffers for a lady..." then pushed the food towards her. "Ladies first."

Rhaenys walked quickly but calmly over to Tom's table and quickly tore into the plate with surprising speed and demureness. When Ana returned with a pitcher of ale, she blinked in surprise.

Tom looked up to her and shrugged, "She hasn't eaten in days," he stated calmly, to explain the situation, "Would you mind getting another tray for me, please?"

"Of course m'lord."

She placed down the ale and left to fetch a second serving.

"Why not get enough for everyone?" Visenya remarked.

Ana paused and frowned slightly before bowing to the elder Lady Dragonstone. "I will tell one of the others to attend you, m'lady."

Visenya smirked and sat down next to Rhaenys. "Remember to breath, little sister."

Rhaenys ignored her and reached for the ale, pausing and looking to Tom who simply sighed and nodded. Foregoing the goblet entirely, she drank deeply of the pitcher before returning to her, well, for lack of a better term, 'feeding frenzy'.

Tom filled a cup quickly before Rhaenys claimed it and nursed the drink until Ana returned.

-

"Ouch!" Tom cried out, rubbing the back of his head from where Mya had slapped him, "What the hell was that for?"

The two of them were in a more private part of the hall, the fires in the hearth making a reddish glow reflect off of Mya's red hair making her almost terrifying.

"You really, are an idiot sometimes, m'lord," she replied, coldly, a deep frown marring her pretty features. A small part of Tom's mind was amazed at how a girl so tiny could make herself puff herself up so that she seemed like a giant looking down on the tiny bug-like people below her.

"An idiot? Honestly What did I do? I'll try and fix my mistake but I can't do that if the only answer I get is an insult!" He responded, honestly confused.

"Ana ring any bells?"

"You did see the state she was in right? I couldn't leave her or any of the others like that. And how should I have treated her?" Tom asked a bit upset now.

"No, but I can only imagine," she replied, "But whatever you did has her following you around like a lost puppy," she sighed, "I'm not upset that you helped her, that's what you do, but the way you go about it sometimes..."

Tom looked at her, confusion etched on his face, then his eyes widened in surprise as a light bulb flashed in his head, then with slight bemusement he asked, "Are you...jealous of her for some reason?"

Tom struggle for a moment, then unable to contain himself, started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Mya's face turned red and her cheeks puffed up, which when combined with her red hair, made her look rather reminiscent of a tomato. "What's so funny?!"

"Nothing, nothing at all, just remembering my younger days and how different they were." He thought back to how he'd joke that he'd have girl-repellent when he'd been in high school. He then looked back to Mya, who'd seemed to get only more indignant, "Mya, I promise you, you don't have ANYTHING to worry about from Ana. I was just trying to be kind to a girl that needed it."

Mya shrunk down a bit. "You swear?"

Tom, still a little unsure as how to go about this, wrapped her up in a hug and said, "I promise Mya, you've got nothing to worry about."

"Good. Just so you know, m'lord, I'll be warming your bed tonight lest Ana try and warm it for me," she smiled coyly, "We can't have that now."

Tom flushed like a fire hydrant at the implications behind Mya's words. But he managed to recover quickly enough, "I guess so."

Unsure as how to react from there, Tom beat a hasty retreat from the young woman and walked back into the hall proper, to his mild surprise, he found Bannon and Rolf along with the men that had come with him eating, drinking, and generally celebrating their victory. Bannon seemed to be talking with one of them a pretty brown-haired girl that seemed to be talking animatedly with the young man.

Looking up from his conversation, Bannon happened to spot Tom and with a grin on his face stood up and gestured to him. Then he called out in a loud voice, "And here he is, our brave leader, the Bane of the Ironborn, the fire breathing, bear buggering bastard of Blackwater Rush himself, Tom Dovahkiin!"

The men and women either sitting or serving the table immediately began to scream out in cheer, lifting their drinks in the air in honor of him.

Tom was a little stunned by the reception he was receiving, he knew that he'd taken these men away from their homes and had gotten several of them killed for what he felt were for selfish purposes. But here they were, cheering his name and toasting to him. It was a...heady feeling.

Feeling a moment of inspiration, he walked to the center of the hall, then he raised both of his arms and then lowered them, gesturing for silence. Once he had it he took a deep breath and loudly declared, "Men of Blackwater, tonight you have every right to celebrate." There was a loud cheer from the partiers.

Tom let them calm down then continued, "Yesterday, you were fishermen, and easy target in any Ironman's book! But now, now your warriors, warriors who took up arms to defend their homes, warriors who avenged themselves and their loved ones! Warriors who fought not for glory, but for honor, and you gave those Ironborn Buggerers the reach around that they've been asking for the better part of the century, and sent them running back to their shitty little islands! This night isn't mine, is yours! I toast to each and every single one of you! TO THE RUSH!"

"TO THE RUSH!", was their immediate reply.

As Tom sat down at the high table he managed to be close enough to Bannon for him to mutter, "I'm not a bastard."

"Ah, and that may be, but I see you didn't contest that you bugger bears." Bannon asked with his usual grin.

"And once again, you and charm wins the hearts and minds of those around you." Tom responded, dryly.

"I try my lord, I try."

"Bannon... Shut up."

-

The next morning found Tom, along with the sisters Targaryen and Bannon Harlaw sitting at the head table eating breakfast before heading out to help with packing up and heading back to the Rush, or Bannon and Tom were, the sisters had made it clear that they weren't interested in, as Visenya put it, "being pack animals."

The two were also interested in talking with a pair of young women who were the most interesting of the former captives of the Ironborn. Lysa Stepstone and Dana Storm, the legitimized bastard granddaughters of Lord Pyle who ruled land along the Southern edge of Blackwater bay and was sworn to King Argilac 'the arrogant' Dondarrion, King of the Stormlands.

Tom had met them the night before and both had thanked him prodigiously for having rescued them from the Ironborn. Dana, at sixteen, was the elder of the two. She was an extremely intelligent young lady of particularly sarcastic temperament, who even after the ordeal she'd so recently been through, managed to affect an extremely dry, almost implacable affect.

After establishing her pedigree, and telling the sad tale of how the two of them had been horseback riding near the coast when they'd been beset by Ironborn raiders. Their guards were killed, and their person's taken into captivity. Being noble born, they'd been spared the usual immediate rape followed by enslavement, and instead had been captured intact. It seemed the captain who claimed them was a practical salt, one more interested in the coin that a pair of noble ladies could bring in ransom rather than getting his rocks off.

Lysa Stepstone, was a relatively good natured girl that while far less implacable than her cousin, seemed to possess the same swift mind, and an admirable eye for detail that in retrospect, was probably somewhat of a liability, at least for Tom.

While her cousin had spent most of the night, and much of the following morning trading barbs with Bannon, Lysa had remained silent, simply watching and listening. In the morning, she'd sat herself across from Tom, and simply watched, no, studied him, as well as keeping a close eye on Visenya and Rhaenys.

After an eerie half an hour of her eating and silence and observing, she shot Visenya a long, studying glance, before casually asking, "So... lady Brodie, how exactly did you meet your lord husband again? I'm afraid that didn't get to hear the full story last night."

Having used the same story a number of times, Visenya could repeat it virtually route. "Well...," she began before being cut off by her Rhaenys.

"Sister, I believe that it is obvious to all but you that your thin ploy is starting to fray at the edges," Rhaenys stated coolly, "While I say this with no disrespect to the brave and honorable men who charged to my rescue," she said lifting her glass in honor of the fishermen, "They are peasants, simple folk of the sea who are not accustomed to sorting through pleasant falsehoods with every breath. Lady Lysa on the other hand, is, and has obviously picked up on your little white lie. So please, I beg you, enough games. While I understand why you did so, and agree with your reasoning, it has outlived its usefulness. To continue to cling to it is an insult to Ser Tom and to the intelligence of everyone in this room..."

"Sister," Visenya replied through gritted teeth, her annoyance clear and very apparent, "I could have just explained it to the two of them in private."

"Gods damn it, Visenya!" Rhaenys roared, slamming her hands onto the table, "Our beloved deserves better than this! He deserves better than to be to mourned in hiding while you play the little wife of some dumpy hedge knight with the ability to breath fire!"

Visenya's face sank. "I know, Rinni, I just wanted to keep us safe..."

"I couldn't take it," Rhaenys cried out, as she broke out into a full weep, "I just couldn't take it anymore!"

Visenya frowned sadly, and pulled her little sister into a hug. "There, there little sister. I'm here."

"I don't know how I can live without him," Rhaenys wailed as she clung to her elder sister, "I don't know how I can go on..."

"Wait," Lysa said her eyes wide. "Her names Rhaenys, they're sisters, and... by the gods... you're..."

Visenya's eyes snapped up and all but bored into the girl's skull, "You complete that sentence in public, and I swear by by all the gods worshiped under the open skies, I will strip you naked and throw you into the cells to entertain our prisoners!"

"Wait! Everyone calm down before we do something we all regret!" Tom shouted.

When he was sure that everyone had his attention he cleared his throat and continued. "Rolf, Beric, Septon Patrek, Ladies Storm and Stepstone, I'd like a moment of privacy with all of you. I can't tell the details to everyone, but I know the others trust you. If you find my reasons to be true, I'm sure they'll take your word for it" He then rose and walked up to the second floor of the hall. The others closely behind him while the fishermen began to mutter under their breaths about what was going on.

Once Tom was sure that they had privacy he turned back to the small group and said, "Alright, you want the full truth, here you go First off Rana is not my wife. Rana it isn't even her name. Before you are Visenya and Rhaenys Targaryen and sisters/wives of Aegon Targaryen, Lord of Dragonstone. They were, along with most of their fleet, underway to the mainland when a storm hit. As far as we know, all hands were lost to the bay except for the Targaryen siblings themselves. I found Aegon. With his dying breath he made me swear to find and protect his sisters."

"Soon after I found Visenya and managed to restore her to to health. Our original intent was to head to Rosby and find a ship to take her back to Dragonstone. The next day we came across the village and the rest is history." Tom sighed, "Listen, I know I lied and I apologize from the bottom of my heart. If you feel it right, I will not accompany you back to the Rush, and instead I will do my best to get the sisters back to Dragonstone.:"

Rolf looked at Tom heavily for a long moment, before snorting. "Lad, you've done right by me and mine so I don't take any issue. I'm sure you had your reasons, but I need to know what they are."

"It's simple," Dana cut in. "If it was commonly knowledge that Lady Visenya Targaryen of Dragonstone was wandering about the countryside with but a single hedge knight for protection, there would be a line of thieves, bandits, and petty nobles looking to seize her for their own devices that would stretch from Sunspear to Winterfell!"

"Well," Beric said grimly, "I'll admit I felt rather insulted, but when you put it like that... I see your point."

Lysa sighed. "I guess I should apologize for giving Lady Rhaenys the opportunity to have her outburst."

"Don't blame yourself, dear," Patrek said gently, "The lady just lost her husband. It's only natural that she be distraught."

Dana snorted. "Come now, I can understand that Lady Rhaenys is upset, but really, there is a fine line between distraught and stupid. I believe she crossed it somewhere in the vicinity of Lannisport. She just put all of us in danger."

"Lady Storm, please don't antagonize her, the last thing we need is a fight. So here's the big question, should we tell the men, they aren't stupid and I can't imagine them not trying to ask what is going on and I don't want to put that kind of pressure on Rolf and Beric." He nodded to the respective village leaders.

"Personally I say we tell them what is going on, get out in the open now and prevent rumors from spreading or them finding out on their own and feeling betrayed for it. What say you?" He asked the others.

"Lady Visenya obviously wants it to be kept as secret as possible," Lysa countered, "I humbly suggest we..." Lysa trailed off as a horn sounded in the background. "What was that?"

"That was the horn. That means..." Tom's eyes widened. "Oh, Christ. Not now!"

"What is it?" Lysa repeated.

"Ships, you silly girl!" Rolf exclaimed, "Ironman ships!"

-

"Alright then, what's the situation?" Tom asked, not even bothering to look to the side as he exited the hall, clad in his helm and chainmail shirt, Blackfyre hanging at his side.

"M'lord, we've spotted two sails," one of the men announced. "Just on the horizon. Maybe an hour's distance"

"Bannon," He called out, "Where are you?"

"Up here!" the Ironborn warrior announced from the wall, "What do you need?"

Tom looked at him. "You're the expert, do you think we can get out of here quick enough to avoid them?" He already had a feeling what the answer would be but he had to ask.

"To be honest, maybe," he said, "But we'd have to leave now. Right now. And even then, we'd be in for rough times. Even with the thralls you freed manning the oars, they'd be able to get here, see that the place has been sacked, and row us down without much difficulty. Even if they didn't, we'd have to leave everything intact to avoid drawing attention, and believe me when I tell you, they'd use this place to staging point for a putative reign of terror across the entire coastline."

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Tom started to curse. Tom looked to the sea and then to the forest inland, "Alright everyone get the women and non-fighters out of here. Head for the forest and hide there, those Ironmen won't abandon their ships for long."

Bannon let his eyebrow peek. "After this? The forests would be the first place they'd check, and don't make me remind you of the dozens of Ironborn warriors you send fleeing into those very woods but yesterday."

"Motherfucker!" he screamed to the high heavens. "I take it fighting them on the shore would be a lost cause?"

"Unless you can magic out another victory," Bannon observed, "We have less chance than my Great Uncle Orin has of getting off the damned Wall."

"God damn it all to hell," Tom grumbled. He needed to whittle down that group down before they hit shore but how? How!? Then like a bolt of lightning, it struck him, there was a shout that could probably work. One he'd been able to recall with ease even before he'd come here.

"I have an idea," he said with a smile, "Have the men pull the ships up as far onto shore as they can, take down masts, and tie down the ships. Things are about to get very rough..."