CH 10.
Pyke.
Iron Islands.
Off the West Coast of Westros.
Theon Greyjoy.
Theon Greyjoy, youngest son of Balon Greyjoy, was sorely disappointed when his ship finally docked in at Pyke. The smell of the sea was in the air... mixed with the stench of rotting fish, forcing the majority of the crew below deck. Pyke was just as dreary as he had recalled from his childhood, a scrap of land jutting forth from the waters, resisting the will of the sea. It was dotted with fishing villages here and there, but on a whole, was no Riverrun or Winterfell. The sky was constantly gloomy, black clouds blotting out the sun more often than not. The castle was run-down, built from a large cliff. It contained several keeps, bridged together, overlooking the ocean.
It had been a rather short voyage from the Westrosi port city of Seaguard to Pyke, no more than a week. Throughout that time, he had constantly worried himself with how his return home would be taken by his family. His father had been a hard man, as Theon recalled, and was rarely prone to show emotion. In a way he was similar to Tywin Lannister. No, that thought bothered him.
His arrival had not been announced, as the Lannisters had spies everywhere. Whether their spy networks had collapsed with Tywin Lannister's death was unknown, so Robb Stark wanted to play safe.
When he arrived at the gates of Pyke and informed the guards who he was, the men practically fell head over heals trying to welcome Theon home, the long lost son of Lord Balon Greyjoy, the Alpha-Lion Slayer. It amused him to no end when his new golden sword- the sword that once belonged to a certain enemy of his- had been lauded with a new name- LionHeartsbane. He had learned later that it was an add-on to the ancient Valaryian steel sword Heartsbane, belonging to House Tarly of the Reach.
His father had not been so accomodating however. He had walked through the castle, he reached the doors to the great hall. Inside sat Lord Balon Greyjoy. The man was little different from how Theon had remembered him 10 years ago. If anything, the years made him leaner, and harder. He was alone in the Throne Room.
He doubled himself into an appropriate bow. '' Lord Father. I have come-''
'' Dressed as a whore?'' Lord Balon interrupted callously. Theon was stopped in his tracks by his father's sudden insult. Thankfully, no one else was present. Balon continued.
'' 9 years it has been. Or was it 10? They took a boy, all those years ago. What have they brought back?''
Theon sighed. It seemed he would have to play this game for a while. '' A man. Your blood and heir.''
'' We shall see. Tell me, did Ned Stark dress you like that? Did he want to dress you like his lovely daughter, or did he hope he could one day sell you off to a brothel?''
Theon reddened at his fathers taunting look. '' I haven't come here to discuss clothes, father. I have a letter-''
'' Oh, so now you are the Starks lapdog are you?'' Balon asked. '' Arff arff! What shall I deliver for you today master? Arff arff!'' his voice strained as he attempted to imitate a dogs bark. It didn't sound pretty.
'' If my garb displeases you, I shall change it.'' The conversation was not going well at all.
'' You shall. That brooch of yours, on your cloak. How did you come upon it? Did you pay the Iron Price, or the Gold?'' Lord Balon demanded.
Theon touched his golden brooch on the front of his cloak. He had forgotten. It had been so long. In the Old way, warriors were allowed to only wear jewlwery taken from their dead enemies. Paying the Iron Price, it was called, in comparison to the Gold price.
'' The Iron or the gold? Did you spend a few silvers for the brooch, or did you tear it from a fallen enemies corpse?'' His father persisted.
Well this was... awkward. '' The Gold price.'' He admitted.
Balon shook his head. '' It is as I feared. You have lost the old ways. The Greenlands have made you soft, and the Starks have made you their lapdog. Arfff arff! What can I get for you, my greenlander masters? Arrf Arff!'' His attempt to imitate a barking dog was... unnerving.
For Theon Greyjoy, this was the last straw. This man, who had cowered behind his walls for over a decade, and failed to keep his own son safe from harm, dared to question his courage? No, this was absolutely unacceptable.
'' The golden brooch I paid the gold price, aye.'' He said, and then unsheathed his sword, LionHeartsbane,kicking his bag away from him. '' But this I paid the Iron Price for, father!'' He set the tip down on the stone floor before his father, raising his voice in the process. '' This was the sword of Lord Tywin Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, and Hand of the false King Joffery Baratheon! And this-'' He grabbed the sack, shook the contents out of it, and out clattered a large helm. Theon kicked it towards his father.
'' is his helm!'' He shouted, as the Red-and-Gold helm finally stopped ringing along its tumble across the floor.
Balon was speechless, as he stared at the helm of one of his greatest old foes, slain by his son.
Theon pressed on. '' King Stark would have your friendship, and your alliance, father. But what he wants are your longships and for the West to burn. In return, you will be confirmed as King of the Iron Islands.''
Balon looked up. '' So.'' He finally said. '' You killed your first old man. What an accomplisment. Was Lord Tywin holding a cane when you slit his throat? Did he hit you at all with it? Have you any welts from his cane? We heard you were wounded. What about his armor? Did you simply catch him asleep? Was he wearing a bed-robe made of silk? ''
Theon could only gape his father's words. Did nothing impress this old bastard? Tywin Lannister wearing a fucking silk robe attacking him with a cane? Is he fucking serious? The idea was... absolutely, absurdly ridiculous.
'' Lord Tywin might have been old but he was still skilled in combat. Furthermore, he had dozens of highly trained guards. Guards that I broke through to cut down their liege Lord.'' He protested.
Lord Balon cut him off. '' You would have me fight by the side of another boy, whose father saw to the deaths of your two brothers!''
'' Father-'' '' No. I will have none of it. This boy here thinks to give me a crown. Give me a crown! Like some little trinket you hand to a dog for a couple tricks! No one gives me a crown. I take what is mine, and pay the Iron Price. Do you even remember our words boy?'' '' We Do Not Sow.'' Theon said.
'' Exactly. I will not accept a crown from anyone, never mind some bloody green boy from the north!'' '' That green boy shattered Lord Tywin's host in his first battle.'' Theon defended. '' And who said anything about giving you a crown? No one gives you a crown, and Robb certainly will not. He simply offers his alliance should you decide to take your crown again, and carve out a new kingdom in the West.''
Lord Balon shook his head. '' You did well, killing Lord Tywin, but that doesn't change the fact that you are the Starks lapdog. They send you like a little raven carrying their little message!''
Theon cut him off, having had just about enough. '' I fight for the Starks because I chose to, father! But while they and I are spilling our blood and mixing it with the blood of our foes, you sit here cowering behind your walls like the craven you are! You couldn't even keep your own blood safe from harm! You gave me away, all those years ago as a hostage! And now I have come back, your last son! I come back with the helm of one of the most powerful men in Westros, and you just react with scorn! You say we do not sow, we take what is ours. What have you taken? When I was sent off to Winterfell, did you take what was yours? I have done more in the last 10 years than you have, and yet you react with scorn to my accomplishments and my choices. If you refuse to call your banners, then perhaps it is time Pyke saw a new Lord!''
Lord Balon stood there stunned, at his defiant son. A long moment passed without either of them saying anything. And then Balon started laughing.
'' Time Pyke saw a new Lord? Ha! That is an Ironman, through and through. Iron guts and Iron Brains too!'' He even smiled slightly. '' Well then, it appears you have not gone soft afterall. ''
Finally.
After he had finally gotten through to his father, Balon had whole-heartedly welcomed his long-lost son back to Pyke. He was introduced to his uncles, Aeron Damp-hair and Victarion Greyjoy, captain of the Ironborn fleet. They were nothing if not gratified with the Ironborn prince having returned, bearing the helm and sword of one of the most dangerous men in Westros. Following that was a woman who he could not place, dressed entirely in mens garbs, with knives lining her shirts... until she remarked how '' wonderful'' it was to see him again.
Yara Greyjoy. How could he forget her? She looked entirely different from when he had last seen her. Balon spoke highly of her. '' She's commanded men. She's killed men. Just like you have.'' He said.
A group of minor lords of various houses had accosted Theon and subsequently forced him into a drinking contest.
Several tankards of piss-poor ale and wine later, Theon found himself stumbling back towards his fathers solar, forcing himself not to fall in his uncoordinated state. He tried to concentrate through the drink-induced haze, and succeeded. His father was sitting behind a black writing desk, a wineskin beside him. He looked up as his son entered. '' I trust you have considered my message?'' Theon inquired.
His father nodded slowly, clearly unhappy about it. '' I have. I feared your time with the Starks had made you weak and soft. However,'' he indicated LionHeartsbane, '' you have proven I have little to fear. You might buy small objects with coin, but at least you didn't hide from your enemies. At Ruby Ford, while those bloody northmen were cowering, settling for trying to stay alive, you charged straight foreword and slew the enemy commander. That proves that you are a man of salt and Iron.''
Theon nodded slowly. '' Indeed. But what of Robb Stark's request? The Kingslayer is still out there, along with his sister the Queen. Will you go to war with me against Jaime Lannister, Casterly Rock and Kingslanding?'' His fingers twitched, praying with every fiber of his being, to the Old Gods and the Drowned God, that his father's answer would be-
'' Yes. I have waited too long biding my time on Pyke. The West is ripe for the taking. The Kingslayer will be forced to choose between the Iron Throne and his homeland. You, your sister, and your uncle Victarion will take our fleet and sail south towards the Lannister city of Lannisport. Last time, I simply took the city and left it standing. Not this time. You will raze the city to the ground. '' He let out a small grin. '' No creature can survive the Kraken at Sea. What are our words boy?''
'' What is Dead may never Die.'' Theon said at once.
Balon nodded. '' Just so. What is dead may never die. And We do Not Sow, but you know that already. Now you will write to the Stark boy. Tell him the Ironborn will take the West from the Lannisters, and claim it for our own, while he goes off trying to win his little war.''
Chapter took so long, and its the first single-POV chapter in this story.
Just as a side-note, Theon's arc in this story is in no small part, inspired by an ASOIAF fanfic, in the books archive. Its titled '' Paying the Iron-Price'', written by TheFirstOfThisName. Its currently in progress.
Game of Thrones Season 4 episode 2 is coming out tonight, '' The Lion and the Rose''! Considering that I read the books, I am keeping my fingers crossed for a certain event that almost everyone is looking foreword to happen this season, to happen tonight.
Next chapter: Jaime suddenly has a whole new set of problems to deal with.