Theon
Of course it had to be raining. For all the talk of the beauty of Lys the Lovely, Theon found the weather put a very literal damper on things. It was overcast, it was surprisingly cold, and those people not desperate to sell them something seemed only interested in getting inside. Even the various pillow houses were not as inviting as they otherwise would have been. Instead of standing outside and basking in the sun, inviting clients in with an alluring glance and a coquettish smile, the city's bed slaves had all seemingly retired to their respective establishments, only to be seen as dancing silhouettes through the fine curtains of the city's many brothels. In a way however, this served to heighten their appeal, promising warmth and letting Theon's imagination fill in the details.
"There will be time for that, my boy," Gerion chuckled when he saw whither Theon's gaze had wandered. "But as a reward for a job well done, not as a distraction before it is completed." Theon blushed, but the bastard of Driftmark rolled his eyes at this.
"And you wonder why I have chosen to seek out my own accommodations." Aurane Waters smirked.
"How marvelous the Free Cities must be for you, Waters," Theon mused. "So many people with the look of Old Valyria, but without the slightest hope of holding land or titles." Aurane narrowed his eyes at this, though trading insults was hardly uncommon between the two of them. They shared a glare to which each had become accustomed during their years growing up in the demesne of House Velaryon.
"It's never wise to insult the captain of the ship on which you've booked passage, boy," Waters replied darkly, "The Merling King's Boon may leave for Westeros without you."
"If you leave without completing our mission, you'll prove your bastard blood to be as craven as Lord Monford says." Aurane's snarled at the mention of his trueborn brother, but Gerion was quick to intervene.
"Come now, Theon. Aurane is a valued member of this expedition, just as you are," he chided. "I would be loath to hire sellsails here in Lys. I could certainly do it, mind you, but it is an unnecessary and avoidable expense."
"House Lannister counts its coins as always," muttered Aurane.
"Stay with us after our business is concluded and you may say otherwise." Gerion answered with a laugh. "I happen to have an account open in one of Tregar Ormollen's finer establishments."
"Well, vengeance and whoring do have a certain appeal to them," Aurane chuckled.
"Vengeance? That's why you're here?" Theon asked incredulously. "You hated your father. Surely you celebrated when the Knight of the Stepstones killed him."
"Ah, but in so doing he put my brother on the Driftwood Throne," Aurane reminded him. "And for that I would see him hanged." Theon scoffed at the insistence of even House Velaryon's bastards on identifying with a half-remembered gift from the Drowned God lost centuries ago. A glare from Aurane was returned by Theon, who wouldn't bother reminding him that despite his father's foolishness, the Seastone Chair of Pyke was still there, and still his for the taking.
"Well, it seems we've arrived," The Lannister declared as the three of them stopped at the inn where Gerion had arranged rooms for them. By Westerosi standards it had the look of luxury, but was positively drab in comparison to some of the brothels that they had seen on the streets of Lys.
"Last chance, Aurane," Gerion said.
"I thank you for your offer, Lord Lannister, but I think I will go my own way. I'll see you both at the appointed time." The bastard of Driftmark tipped his cap and continued walking, leaving the other two to settle into their new accommodations.
A little while later Theon found himself by the fire in the rooms Gerion had managed to procure for them, finally in some dry clothes that he was sure would only be soaked again as soon as he stepped back out into the rain. He shared a glass of wine with Gerion as the two reminisced about the occasional visits House Velaryon would pay to King's Landing and Gerion's trips to Driftmark to "take in the sea air" as he put it. They talked about some of the misadventures that they had gotten into with some of the serving girls and made a few japes at Lord Monford's expense. Theon was about to pour himself a second glass of wine, but Gerion discouraged him.
"Have to keep your wits sharp, my boy." He said.
"I suppose you're right." Theon replied as he placed the bottle back down on the table. He would never admit it to Gerion, but despite everything that House Lannister had done to his family, he had developed a special bond with him thanks to the time he spent in the capital learning to be a proper lord. At Driftmark Old Lord Velaryon had always treated him as the hostage he was, in King's Landing the Hand had shown him nothing but contempt, and the King naught but distance. Perhaps Theon should have hated Gerion too. He was, after all, a Lannister. But the fact remained that that particular Lannister had been one of the few bright spots in his childhood. Theon could see why the Imp had called him his favorite uncle. When the time was right, when they had completed their mission and Theon had proved to his fellow ironmen that he was worthy of his birthright, he would thank Gerion for all he had done for him. After what seemed like too little time there was a knock at the door and Aurane entered, his clothes dripping.
"It's time we went and spoke to our friend," Gerion smiled warmly, clearly excited to continue on the mission. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, Lord Gerion," Theon replied. "But if I'm to learn how to negotiate I must insist you let me take the lead. I'm not a child anymore." Waters scoffed.
"I know that, Theon," Gerion's smile changed to one of reassurance. He pushed a strand of his golden hair out of his face and placed his hand on Theon's shoulder. "And I fully intend to do so. I'll only step in if I think we're losing him. But truth be told, I'm not too worried about it. I doubt even that old pirate has never been snared by a kraken before." They shared a laugh as Theon pulled his cloak over his shoulders, even Aurane. Together they made their way quietly through the streets of the city, followed by a retinue just large enough to ensure that they would be recognized as men of quality, not to be harassed by some desperate thief or whore. When they came to the establishment they were seeking they found a few guards posted at the door. Standing beneath a canopy, they seemed utterly unfazed by the weather, even though the wind blew through. A few silver stags at the door were enough to gain them entrance. As soon as they stepped into the tavern Theon spotted the man they wanted. He confidently strode over to the long table at which he sat, deciding to make a strong opening move.
"Tell me where he is." Theon slammed his hands down onto the table and glared at the Lyseni pirate, while Salladhor Saan flashed him a toothy grin and did his best to suppress a chuckle. Saan's guards made to draw their weapons before he bade them put them away with a wave of his hand. Theon felt the reassuring grip of Gerion on his shoulder. He turned and saw that the older man was giving him a stern look, his hard green eyes a reminder of the conversations they had had on their way to Lys. This was supposed to be a mission of diplomacy. The kind of thing Theon would have to improve upon for when he inherited the Iron Islands. He couldn't force Salladhor Saan to give up the location of one of his closest associates. Not in Lys, not when the pirate was surrounded by allies and guards in a tavern he himself owned.
"You'll have to explain who this 'he' is, boy," the self-styled Prince of the Narrow Sea replied wryly. "Ah, is that the Kraken of Greyjoy upon your breast, little lord? Perhaps you seek news of your uncle. Alas, he disappeared into the Jade Sea, as have many before him. There are legends of a one-eyed captain with a ship of mutes, but they are scarcely to be believed. Like a true kraken he no doubt lies at the bottom of the sea." Theon's fists clenched upon the fraying wood of the table. Gerion's grip on his shoulder tightened. Theon knew Saan was trying to get a rise out of him, and given the obnoxious way in which the pirate carried himself he knew it would be hard to resist. Salladhor Saan was in every way absurd and ostentatious. Tonight, he was dressed in a flashing cloth-of-silver, with sharp, jagged sleeves that seemed so long they no doubt reached the floor. A bright red satin atop his head sported several feathers of different lengths and hues. He wore as many rings as he had fingers, each inset with precious stones. A strange bird, as colorful as its master, squawked on his shoulder.
"We want the Knight of the Stepstones," Theon answered. "The pirate lord Davos." Saan put his goblet to his lips and took a sip before placing it back on the table, moving the wine about in his mouth and mulling over its taste before finally swallowing.
"What makes you think I would do such a thing?" He mused. "I am not aware of all your lordly customs, but I am Prince of the Narrow Sea, and in Westeros it is said a prince should not betray his knights, is it not?"
"My prince," Gerion cut in, "we admire your willingness to protect those near to you, but we are here on business." Saan chuckled at this.
"Never let it be said there is no honor among thieves," he rejoined. Gerion looked down at the table and back at Saan, wordlessly asking permission to sit. Saan nodded and Gerion slung himself into one of the seats, beckoning for Theon and Aurane to do the same. Gerion then pulled out his coin purse and withdrew a few gold dragons from it, dropping them slowly and deliberately onto the table. Saan's eyes followed them with a look that grew more and more ravenous with every clink of gold on gold.
"I suppose introductions are in order," the Lannister went on. "I am Gerion of House Lannister and these are my associates Theon of House Greyjoy and Aurane Waters, natural son of the late Lord Velaryon. Tell me, my prince, what sort of wine would this buy me in an establishment as fine as this one?" Saan considered the coins for a moment before answering.
"A cheap Pentoshi blend," he replied. "I'm sure a man as well traveled as yourself Lord Lannister knows how expensive this city can be."
"No matter," Gerion said, withdrawing several more dragons and again dropping them slowly on the table. "Plenty more where that came from. After all, I am interested in the best Lys has to offer." Theon couldn't believe how easy Gerion was making it look. Saan had rebuffed him almost immediately, but now the pirate looked genuinely intrigued.
"Then you have found the right man," Saan told him.
"Please, Lord Gerion, your generosity is unnecessary," Theon found himself saying. "I shall buy the wine. After all, it is my hope that the prince and I become better acquainted. There is much we could do for each other when I become Lord Reaper of Pyke."
"Oh? And what would those things be?" Saan asked caustically.
"When I am Lord of the Iron Islands—"
"Bah! I spit on your Iron Islands! Pirates with nothing to trade but rocks and salt!" Theon was about to rise to his feet before Gerion stopped him. Aurane smirked.
"Gentlemen," the Lannister interjected, trying to calm the situation. "We can talk of future business at a future time. Let us now focus on the matter at hand."
"Ah, yes," Saan tugged at his beard as if trying to remember something. "You were asking me to betray my associate, though for what reason I cannot recall."
"We would never ask you to betray Ser Davos," said Theon. Saan gave him a dismissive look, but he pressed on, "just to consider a different business arrangement. One that would ensure your good standing in Lys."
"You insult me in my own tavern? The Saan family has ever been one of the most influential in Lys, boy," Salladhor spat.
"And His Grace King Rhaegar would see that influence grow," Gerion added. "He would even take steps to aid you in that regard." Gerion withdrew a piece of rolled parchment from his cloak and placed it on the table.
"My prince," Theon said, the title leaving a foul taste in his mouth. "You are speaking to men who understand that what some call piracy is nothing more than diplomacy and commerce conducted by other means. It's why my people call it 'paying the iron price.'" This wasn't exactly the reason, but Theon didn't expect Saan to know that. One of the things Gerion had told him was that it may prove important to be flexible with the truth in order to hold the pirate's interest.
"Perhaps I have misjudged you, boy," Saan replied. "Tell me, what else do you understand about this iron price?"
"Only that the good people of Lys are no doubt tired of paying it. In exchange for helping His Grace in this small matter, the King would be willing to let you present a treaty to the magisters of Lys. It reduces the tariffs on several Lysene goods, and lifts the ban on tapestries and wines imported from your fair city." At this, Gerion removed a roll of parchment from his cloak and set it down on the table. Saan eyed it hungrily.
"I would be much loved for such a thing, it is true," Saan admitted, "but in Lys we sell love on every corner. And the fact that I make use of your 'other means' has allowed me to profit from these tariffs of yours. So tell me, little lord, where is the benefit for Salladhor Saan?"
"We can't just trust anyone to deliver these goods to the King's markets, my prince," Gerion said. "And the…clandestine nature of your enterprise has always meant that you were only able to trade with certain people and at certain places. That need not be the case. Lord Darry of the Riverlands has generously offered to reduce his own tolls along the Trident."
"Why be forced to unload your goods at the mouth of the river when you could take them as far as Fairmarket without ever seeing an exciseman?" asked Aurane. Saan stroked his beard at this, despite probably having not the slightest idea where Fairmarket was, and took another sip of wine before setting it back down on the table decisively.
"All this for the head of a sellsail? I would be a fool not to accept, but I must ask, why?"
"Ser Davos is more than a sellsail, unfortunately," Theon commented, happy to see his interjection did not earn him a glare from the pirate this time. "He does not simply prey upon our vessels, he does so in the name of Stannis Baratheon."Saan laughed at this.
"Ah yes, the good Ser Knight and the dead king he serves. I hope this offer of yours means I may speak as if I am among friends…but regardless I think I shall speak as if you are surrounded by my guards. I have been with Ser Davos when he has taken a Westerosi ship. It is an interesting sight indeed. He presents his captives with your holy book and demands they swear upon it to fight for King Stannis' peace, lest they meet the king's justice instead."
"A true man of mercy," Aurane sneered.
"Not to Reachmen," said Gerion.
"Why do you consort with such a madman?" Theon asked. Gerion grimaced at his lack of tact and the old pirate whirled upon him once more, though the anger in his eyes had been tempered by the offer that now lay on the table.
"Because, little lord, that madman and I have had a long and profitable relationship. And he was not always so. He was promised much by his King Stannis, but your King Rhaegar took all he had instead. There is a saying in Lys I like to remember in all my business dealings: Better men have done worse things, and for worse reasons." Gerion slid the rolled parchment in Saan's direction, drawing him back to the business at hand.
"You will find him in Volantis, on the western bank of the city in an inn called the Poor Man's Hathay. His business there means he will not leave until the next moon. Now I must be preparing to deliver my speech to the magisters, so if I may …" Salladhor reached for the parchment but Gerion withdrew it quickly, now giving the Lysene a hard, determined look.
"Come now, Salladhor, you're a businessman. When you receive fortuitous news, don't you know it's rude not to tip the courier?"
"Forgive me if I did not realize my Lord of Lannister was in need of gold."
"Not gold, information. You said you have seen Ser Davos mete out his so-called king's justice?"
"I have, at that." Theon was confused now. This had not been part of the plan.
"What weapon does he use when he does so?" Saan flashed a toothy grin at this.
"Ah yes, I knew the coming of a Lannister to inquire about my old friend was no mere chance. You wish to know if he has your sword."
"What does it look like? Is there a lion on the pommel? Can you tell if it is truly Valyrian?" Now it was Theon's turn to place a hand on Gerion's shoulder, but the older man did not so much as acknowledge him. Theon's grip relaxed and he decided he had best just watch the conversation for any signs of further trouble. For once, he and Aurane shared a concerned look.
"It is undoubtedly of Valyrian make," Saan told Gerion, "and its pommel is indeed a lion. Whether it truly is your ancestral blade I do not know. But I would not advise you to seek it, even if you seek the man who wields it. Davos claims to have brought it out of old Valyria, and if he speaks the truth then the Doom hangs over it." Gerion's eyes lit up at this, excited by the mere mention of Valyria. This unnerved Theon greatly. He was not superstitious, but the failure of any man to return from the ruins of that place was not to be taken lightly. Gerion slid the parchment back over to Saan, who snatched it up like a starving animal might some piece of flesh. Gerion rose to leave, bowing politely as he did so.
"We thank you for your hospitality, my prince," the Lannister said formally. Salladhor raised his goblet and took another drink.
"To our new arrangement," he replied. "May you find what you seek." Gerion turned and left with Theon and Aurane Waters in tow.
"Why didn't you tell me this was about Brightroar?" he demanded as the rain whipped around them.
"Because it isn't about Brightroar," Gerion answered somewhat coldly. "We are on a mission from the King. I just happen to have my own motives for being here, just as Aurane does and as you do." This caught Theon off-guard. On their way to Lys, the older man had done nothing but tell him how the whole affair would be good for him, would restore the Greyjoy family name within the Seven Kingdoms, and would give him the experience he needed for when he reclaimed his birthright. It had never occurred to him that Gerion might have had his own designs.
"At least my reasons don't conflict with our charge!" Theon shouted back. He wanted to get out of the rain, but something kept him from it. He couldn't go back with Gerion just yet.
"As much as it pains me to say this," Waters admitted, "the little squid has a point. I want glory and advancement. He wants to restore his family name. Neither of those are things Ser Davos can give us. But you, you want something he has. What if he offers it to you in exchange for letting him go? What if he threatens to throw it into the sea if you do not?" Gerion ground his teeth, his green eyes locked with Aurane's purple ones.
"What would you have me do?" He spat. "Pretend I do not wish to see Brightroar restored to its rightful owners? Not reclaim my family's legacy from some murderous lunatic?"
"I would have you swear an oath," Waters said bitterly. "But I would not expect you to keep it."
"You will not accompany us when we apprehend him," Theon found himself saying. He couldn't believe the words had left his mouth. "You will stay behind and prevent Ser Davos from escaping by sea." Gerion looked at Theon as if he had been slapped. Theon looked to Aurane for support for what felt like the first time in years. Waters nodded.
"No one need know how he was captured," the heir to Pyke went on. "There will be enough glory for all of us. But if you do not swear, here and now, on the honor of your House, that you will do this, then theMerling King's Boon will leave without you."
"Do we have your oath, Lord Gerion?" Waters asked.
"Aye," Gerion said. "You have it."