Thank you for all the Reviews! I love to read them!
Someone pointed out that "King Baratheon" is the wrong term of address. That Heddara should call him "King Robert". I did it on purpose, because Heddara doesn't respect Robert as a King, she uses his last name in a way to show that he is only King because of who his ancestors were.
Here is the next chapter! Let me know what you think :)
Chapter Eleven – Age 29
XI
Heddara chuckled, bouncing her youngest son lightly to keep him sleeping.
"You will first have to finish your work before you can go train with Black Wing, Rodrick." She said with a fond smile.
"But it's stitching mother! It's a girly thing!" He whined, looking over at his cousin hopping to find some commiseration.
Jon bit his lip, looking at her sideways. He probably agreed with Rodrick but knew she wouldn't relent.
"When you are fighting in a battle, you might need this skill to save each other's lives. When I fostered in Bear Island, I once had to stich over a wound on aunt Maege's shoulder."
Arya looked at her with wild eyes, mesmerizer by the tale of blood, before going back to her stitching, in a much more enthusiastic way.
Sansa, however, frowned. "Why didn't the Maester do it?"
"He already had his hands full of other, more serious wounds. So, he only made sure to clean Maege's wound, and was glad that I could help with the stitching." She hummed softly to the baby in her arms and looked over to make sure that the maid was keeping Bran entertained with his blocks. "Maybe tomorrow you should visit the Healing Halls. It would do you some good to see how the Maesters can help the people, but how sometimes it would also be very easy for the people to help themselves. It is especially important for a warrior to know how to take care of his or her wounds until he can get someone to take a proper look at them."
She raised a brow when she saw they were looking at her and not at the stitches in their lap. "What are you waiting for? Finish your work. No warging training until you have finished it in an acceptable way."
"Yes Mother." The children chorused, some more excitedly then other.
She chuckled at the pouting faces of some of them. "Don't worry darlings. I don't expect them to look very pretty. But they should do their function."
Relieved at her declaration, the four of them got back to work.
Walking around the streets of Lys, Euron took a deep breath and smiled up at the sky.
After three years of hard work…
Freedom felt good.
Having his own crew and ship felt good.
Granted, the ship was part of the fleet commanded by Manderly, and the crew had been chosen by the man, but he had full command of the ship, and everyone had to obey his orders.
Damn, he had missed it.
Even though he had to follow the direction and requests of a man like Manderly, he found himself being able to do so when the reward was this.
But that didn't mean he didn't have plans.
Oh, he had plans alright.
One day, he would convince Heddara Stark to allow him to become a free agent for the Kingdom, with freedom to explore every corner of the World.
One day, he would discover what riches awaited him in Valyria.
But that day had not come yet. On this day he was in Lys to buy – and then immediately free – Lyseni bed slaves.
Without salt wives, the Ironborn had quickly warmed up to a Westeros staple.
Brothels.
Even though they were not used to have to pay to have a woman, at least they had coin now, and could use it for such things.
That the laws against taking a woman against her will were always carried out with scary efficiency was certainly an encouragement to visit such establishments.
In any case, the Ironborn had adhered to the brothels like only sailors could. Only problem was, there were not enough woman.
The salt wives had almost all fled. The only ones that had stayed had done so for their children, and usually refused to have anything to do with their previous… husbands.
The Overseer had asked permission to send for women from Essos, stating the morale of the men in his territory. Personally, Euron thought that the man just wanted to get some himself, but he didn't care.
The Queen had allowed it, under the agreement that no slave would step foot on a Northern ship, and that the coin for such a venture would come from the Ironborn's own coffers.
Now he just had to find some women who would still wish to have the same… profession… even after they had the freedom to choose it.
Heh, he was sure he would find some. This was Lys after all.
"Lorin, please escort these Ladies to the ship, please. Make sure the men behave." He ordered his third mate, whom he had taken with him on his quest to find willing whores.
He had firstly headed directly to the slave trading houses near the port, but one look inside had dissuaded him of such notions. The slaves there were kept under very close watch, and there would be no chance of him being able to talk to any of them before "buying".
So, he headed instead to several of the many brothels in the city, intent on persuading some of their slave workers to a change of scenery and an increase in liberties.
If he took the time to be certain that he only invited those he knew would be worth his money, was of no consequence. It was good for business after all.
A few days later and he was finally done with his main business and could now focus on more personal pursuits.
Like the shiny treasurers gracing the stalls of the market in Lys.
He saw them as he was carefully inspecting a stall full of old tomes In Valyrian.
Learning the strange language had been his first priority after joining the Northern fleet, since his Queen and Manderly saw it as selecting factor when choosing a captain.
After all, they said, most of the trade in the North was made with Essos, were most people spoke the language. It was important that a captain would be able to solve problems with the locals.
So, imagine his surprise that, just as he was turning to the vendor, prepared to bargain for a few books, he saw the silver hair.
Now, silver hair in itself was not a strange sight in Lys, quite on contrary actually. However, this silver hair belonged to a young man, who was followed by a younger girl.
He would have never realized who they were had it not been for a painting he had pilfered from a pirate ship four years before, that depicted a woman who was almost the spitting image of the young man just a few steps from him.
Quickly taking care of his business, he hurried to follow the young couple through the market streets, finally reaching them as the young man stumbled over a basket laying besides a stall at the edge of the market.
"Watch where you leave your things woman!" He spit out, his face contorting into a vicious scowl and his furious eyes on the vendor. "I should have you put onto the streets for your impudence!"
He snorted at the arrogant words, unimpressed at the image the boy presented. "Where are your minders, little lizard?"
Wide, violet eyes turned to him, scowl and frown firmly in place as he looked him up and down as if measuring his worth and finding him lacking.
Euron snorted again. Ironborn had never been ones for fancy dress. What was the point when the wind and the salt would just ruin them as soon as you got back into the ship? The little lizard would soon learn not to judge men by their looks.
"Who are you to speak to me in such a way?"
Euron smirked. What an arrogant little shit. "Someone older, physically stronger and generally more powerful than you."
The boy sneered, as the girl looked at him in curiosity and confusion.
"No one is more powerful than a King!"
Euron let out a chuckle. "I'm certain your father also thought that way. That is why when he decided to burn the Lord Paramount of the biggest territory in his Kingdom, he didn't live to see the next summer."
The sneer in the boy's face intensified.
"You follow the Usurper, don't you? Or the Pretender in the North. What are you here for? Did they send you to kill me?"
Euron laughed, the sudden sound prompting the young girl to jump in fright.
"Little lizard, if I was an assassin, you would already be dead!" He chuckled. "Although how you walk around without guards, when you are aware of the possibility of assassins just shows how reckless and mad you are. It seems you are just like your father."
"My father was ten times the man you are!" The boy screamed, enraged. "How can a man who either follows a stupid whore or a drunk Usurper besmirch his rightful King!"
Tired of the foolish boy's rants, and insulted at the offense of his Queen, Euron grabbed the boy by his neck, pulling him from the ground and closer to him.
"You are as stupid as your father." He sneered at him. "You think your father was great? He was a madman burning people alive for imagined offences. He got his just rewards." Wanting the message to sink in, he slammed the idiot into the wall, making sure his head gave a satisfying thud against it.
Truth of the matter was that while some Ironborn resented the North for 'invading' their Islands, he had never been too bothered by it. He was a man who only accepted two ways of life: either he had the power to rule, or he followed someone who was obviously more powerful than him and could get him what he wanted.
And in all her resplendent glory, Heddara Stark was probably the only living being worth following. For one, he knew that once he proved himself she would give him the freedom to explore as he wished, she did the same for her brother after all. And then, she was a warrior he could respect, and she held the loyalty of many others. The Drowned God knew he would never be able to defeat the likes of Bolton or Umber on a fight on land. At the sea? That was another story. No one had better sea legs than a Greyjoy after all.
What mattered was that he followed his Queen on his own accord, and therefore no one, much less an arrogant would-be prince, would call her a whore in his presence.
"You talking shit about others people Queen's is also incredibly stupid, you know?" He spit in the boy's face, relishing in the sight of his saliva running down the boy's cheek, his eyes a mixture of hate and fear. "Especially when such Queen could carve you up and give you to her direwolf to eat for supper. That is, if her Bolton husband didn't skin you for it first."
He gave him a sadistic smile. "You know, I always wondered how Targaryen's were capable of controlling Dragons. Maybe if I cut you open, I could find out?"
The young girl whimpered, clearly conflicted on what to do. Euron had cornered them into an alley, and she seemed hesitant on leaving them alone and going for help.
He chuckled again. "Have no fear little lizard. While following through my threats would be wonderful, it would make me all dirty with blood, and cleaning it in a hurry to be presentable back in the ship would be a terrible bother. Your stupid brother will be fine for now." He gave him another shake and slam for good measure, tightening his grip on his neck to make sure it would bruise, before letting him slide down the wall and crumble on the ground.
Ignoring the pathetic spluttering form on the ground, he bent down so he could be on a more even level with the girl. She was young, probably around his Queen's heir age, but even though she lived in exile, she seemed incredibly naive. She was so shocked by what she had just seen that he would bet this was the first violent encounter she had ever witnessed.
"I know Willem Darry and Gerold Hightower are both dead from fevers, but I am quite aware that Oswell Whent is very much alive and kicking. Slipping out from his watch is not only disrespectful but stupid and foolish as hell. While my Queen cares not about what you do, you are hunted by Baratheon's men, little girl." He gave her his best sadistic smile, before turning to leave.
"You shouldn't wake the Dragon!" The boy spit out from the ground.
He laughed again. "You should ask more questions to your minder, little lizard. The North knows how to kill Dragons." Sending him another blood lusted smile, he continued on his way, uncaring for the two siblings.
He would be sending some letters from his ship, before leaving the port.
But first, he had more little treasures to find in the market. Valyria wouldn't explore itself after all.
And he wanted to know what the little lizards had been selling.
The slight screech of the door to her solar warned her of the entrance of a visitor, almost at the same time that the soft "Mother?" told her it was her nephew.
She looked up from her papers and rose, as she saw the sleepy and slightly frightened look on his face.
"Did you have a nightmare again Jon?" She asked softly, brushing his hair away from his face.
He shrugged but leaned into her touch looking for comfort.
"I'm too old for nightmares." He grumbled.
She chuckled. "No one is too old for nightmares. Come, let's get you to bed while you tell me all about them."
He leaned into her as they walked and put his arm around her waist. Jon had been having the nightmares since they had come back from the wall, but this one had apparently shaken him more than the others.
"It was the Ice monsters again. But this time they were making dead people do what they wanted. Only since the dead people had probably been dead for a long time they looked..." He gulped, shaking his head at the memory.
"Sh... it's okay. It's only a dream. I'll make sure no monsters ever bother you."
She put him to bed and sung to him while holding his hand until he fell asleep again., all the while her worries grew.
The nightmares were growing more detailed and there was no sign of them getting better. Did they... mean something?
She shook her head, dismissing that possibility.
She needed to tell Old Nan not to tell the boys such gruesome stories. They might be older now but that didn't mean they weren't still young children.