Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun
Chapter Eighty-One
As the waves rocked the ship, Elia's stomach rolled. She had never been good on ships and it always seemed to get worse each time she went on one. Well, at least this time she did not have a fever. The voyage back from Dorne had near as killed her and put the twins in danger as well and it was yet another reason that she would not be quick to forgive Doran, if ever.
Speaking of her brother, Elia looked down on the table to where she had laid down the knife that Nymeria had given her, a gift from Doran. Doran had given her plenty of gifts in the past when she had been a girl, but those had been gifts of books he had thought that she would like or dresses or seashells he had picked up from the sands of Salt Shore as he squired there.
It was always to Oberyn who would be gifted weapons if one ever wished to mend a bridge with him, not her. And yet, she would not lie and say that had found herself somewhat fascinated by the knife ever since it had been given to her. Doran had to know that she would not like this for a gift, surely he had to know that about her if nothing else?
Then why had he chosen to give it to her? The grip of the blade was engraved with the images of a wolf on a hill howling up at the sun, a stag stood on an opposite hill with ivory thorns encircling them and a trout jumping up from the river and the sun, high above them all, blazed. The first time she had seen the knife, the fact that the sun had a face had distracted her from another detail of it.
A small carved spear was ran through the sun. Elia traced it with her smallest finger for a moment and frowned. The sigil of her house, the house she had been born into. High above them all. Her finger dropped down to trace over the sigil of her husband's house, the proud and so fierce direwolf that howled at the sun as it only ever did to the moon in life, the thorns running over it's body like chains.
Had Doran made some agreement with House Tyrell? She could not see how. Even at the best of times, the Reach and Dorne had never been friends. And it seemed that House Tyrell had declared for the King. And she could not forget that as she tried to decipher for what reason her brother had sent her this gift, armies of Dornishmen could be marching into the Reach and burning their homes and fields, that would put a quick end to any sort of alliance.
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she almost did not hear the door to her cabin open, Nymeria Sand walked in. Her black hair was bound into a long braid with thin golden wire. She was garbed in a gown of yellow velvet, a brace of daggers circling her waist and Elia knew that was only the knives that her young niece allowed those around her to see.
A platter was in her hand with a bowl atop of it and the platter was placed in front of her and a thick meat stew met her gaze, it smelt bland and and unseasoned. "The Captain says that we should be coming to dock in Lordsport within the hour Auntie." Nymeria handed her a spoon and then sat down on the other side of the table.
Her gaze, and not for the first time Elia noticed that all of her nieces had their Father's eyes, even if they did not share the color, went to the dagger. "It might simply be that it is just a gift, a bad and poorly thought out one." Nymeria shrugged her shoulders. "Do you not remember that time my lovely big sister tried to train me how to use a spear for my nameday and I ended up loosing my balance and falling down the stairs in Sunspear and broke my arms. Older siblings are fools."
"Older brothers and sisters might be, but Doran isn't." She held the blade up so it would catch the light streaming in from one of the cabin windows, tilting it one way and then the other. "Your uncle never does anything without a reason, he is patient and he waits and he debates every single action before he takes it and when he does take it. Then it is what he has viewed as the best action, there is some hidden purpose here. I can sense it."
Elia put the knife back down on the table and then turned her full attention back on to Nymeria. "I know I've asked you this before, and I certain that I've must be driving you mad with it but I am afraid that I do have to ask again so I hope you will forgive me. But are you certain that your Uncle did not say anything else when he told you to deliver this to me."
"All he told me to do was to deliver it you, he said nothing else I promise." Elia knew that she had no reason to disbelieve her, but all the same she found it hard to believe that Doran had not plot in mind. Of course, he might still have a plot in mind and Nymeria merely had no other plot in mind other than getting the knife into her hands but if it was so, then Elia did not know what it was that she was meant to be doing next. It was hardly likely that the knife was going to tell her what to do.
Perhaps it was time to put this out of her mind, at least for the moment. She had put herself on this boat for one reason and that was to do all she can to ensure the support of the Iron Islands for their rebellion. The men of the islands were proud and prickly and kept to themselves by all accounts, when they were not raiding and burning.
But, the last time there had been a reported raid by the Iron Islands was almost a dozen years ago. From what she had time to learn about the Iron Island's currant Lord, Lord Quellon Greyjoy, was that he had been attempting to bring the islands closer into the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Not only would he no longer permit raids on the mainland; he had also outlawed tharldom, the closest the Seven Kingdoms still had to slavery.
He seemed like an eminently reasonable man to Elia, with a bit of luck she might be able to convince him to side with them. She needed to get him to side with them. They had no presence at sea what so ever. If they could get the Iron Fleet to support them, then things would be a great deal more balanced. The Iron Fleet was said to be the largest fleet at sea and the Ironborn themselves were by all accounts some of the fiercest warriors.
And they had need of both of them and it was up to Elia to get them. So, she imagined that she was going to need her strength. Elia picked up her spoon and dug it into the stew and then brought it up to her mouth. It had been overly salted and the meat was so chewy that her jaw had started to ache from the effort of biting through it.
All the same, she had managed to finish the entire bowl. And then she rose and had Nymeria bring her the gown for the day, officially the girl had been sent to act as handmaiden to Lord Blackmont's daughter Larra who as her Father's heir had joined her Father and younger brothers on their march from their castle. She was not expected to fight on the battlefield and her Lord Father had instead sent her to act as handmaiden for Elia.
The girl did not seem particularly pleased with her Father's decision, but she had said nothing to Elia. Nymeria had said that when they were alone, all the older girl seemed to do was pout about how her Father did not trust her and that she thought that he was going to try and disinherit her. Elia wanted to take the girl by the shoulders and give her a shake and make her understand.
Lord Blackmont was already putting his sons at risk, he would not wish to risk his daughter if he did not have to. But it was not Elia's place to say that, she did not know Lord Blackmont's mind after all.
Nymeria retrieved her grey and white grown, a simple and practical cut and wearing her husband's colors made her feel more secure. Larra came in the moment as Nymeria was tying the strings of her gown back. Larra helped her to tame her hair and placed her fingers on her fingers as well as a golden pendent with a fire opal in the center of it around her neck.
The last touch then was the dagger, she would of course have the honor guard that her husband and brother had sent with her but Elia wished to carry the knife herself. So she was not helpless should anything unfortunate happen. Nymeria lent her a strap of leather to buckle around her waist, off which hung a sheathe which the knife could slide into.
Once all was done, the three of them left her cabin and climbed the stairs to reach the deck. Five ships flew across the sea in formation towards the large grey island that was Pyke. Three of the ships belonged to Lord Tarth and the other two belonged to Ser Estermont. As an escort they more than served the purpose of getting them to the islands but in terms of defense, they were more a paper shield rather than anything else. The Iron Fleet was massive and they were in it's harbor now.
Ser Edric Estermont, a younger cousin of the currant Lord of Estermont, walked over to Elia as she came out on to the deck. He was part of her honor guard, three hundred Dornishmen who her brother had chosen to keep her safe, a hundred northern men who her husband had chosen to keep her safe, and a hundred knights from the Stormlands.
It was a larger number than she was comfortable enough, she had tried to inform them that a hundred men would be both sufficient enough to keep her safe and show Lord Quellon that they held him in high regard. But she could not convince them and so she had an honor guard of some five hundred strong and Elia could only pray that these five hundred would not have made the difference in some vital battle.
"We will be coming into dock in a matter of moments, Princess. Will you be ready to come ashore." Elia nodded once and the knight returned it before withdrawing. She made her way to the prow of the ship and stared out as the little stone in the middle of the sea grow larger and large with every single breath that she took.
The castle seat of the Greyjoys, also named Pyke but then she had never heard anyone accuse the men of the iron islands of being creative, jutted out from the sea on several long stony pillars. The castle had been built on a cliff, and the sea had eroded it away to almost nothing with only bridges connecting them to one another and only a massive stone bridge connecting it to the mainland.
Even from where she stood on the deck, Elia's heart dropped into her stomach as she watched the the rope and wood bridges sway in the breeze, looking like they were moments away from breaking off and falling into the sea. Well, with a bit of luck, she wouldn't have to cross them. She tore her gaze away from the castle and instead looked forward towards the port.
Lordsport was smaller than she expected, it was still a larger port town than Planky Town but she had expected it to be closer to Lannisport or White Harbor in size when in truth it was actually not that large at all. Thankfully, it's harbor was large enough to hold all five of their ships at once so they were all of them able to quickly disembark.
Many of the smallfolk glared at them, one or two spat at them, but soon enough they had been given directions to Pyke. There had not been much in the way of room for horses on the ships, only enough for twenty and they had only been able to wrangle another ten out of the townsfolk, which meant only thirty of them could go ahorse while the rest would have to follow on foot.
Elia, Nymeria and Larra had each been given a horse and the others had all been claimed. It was a long slow journey, five hundred men afoot or so near that number as to make little difference, was a slow moving thing and thus it was near dark by the time they finally would reach the great stone bridge that would carry them into the great hall of Pyke.
A man, who she assumed to be the steward, greeted them at the foot of the bridge. His mouth smelled of wine and even atop her horse, Elia had to fight to stop herself from wincing at the smell of it. "Greetings my Lords, my Ladies and my good Sers. The hospitality of Pyke is open to you. I am Sylas, the steward, my Lord of Greyjoy would know why it is that you have come?"
"Good Steward, forgive me for coming on to you unannounced. But I am afraid that much and more has happened, I and my noble companions must speak with Lord Quellon as soon as he is able to receive us." With a bit of luck, he would be awake and Elia was going to be able to speak to him now which she very much needed to do.
"My Lord is awake and about in the Great Hall. He would speak to you, my Lady and all of you my lords, we have heard tales from those who took port here in the Greenlands. My Lord wishes to know the truth of them. Please follow me, and I would ask those who are a horse to now dismount. The stable boys will care for them."
A knight, whose name Elia did not know but his surcoat bore the black raven of House Morrigen, helped her down from the horse and soon they all followed the sourmouthed steward across the stone bridge. Half her guard was still passing the bridge as the rest of them followed the steward deeper into the halls of the great keep.
The doors of the keep's main hall swung open and Elia's eyes went straight to the far end of the hall where the Seastone Chair was situated. It was a fierce some looking thing. Made from oily black stone, it was shaped into the body of a massive kracken, it's tendrils reaching up into the air. Sat on it, was Lord Quellon himself.
He was an old man, and from where Elia stood it looked like he had a bit of trouble breathing, but it was clear that in his youth he had been impressive. He was a massive man, at least six and half feet tall with shoulders that would put an auroch to shame. His face was fiercely bearded and his eyes were grey and cold, his stomach had rounded out from beer and golden rings shone on every finger.
Around him stood four men, all of them bearing some resemblance to the man who sat on the throne of long dead kings and Elia knew that they must have been his sons. He had sired nine of them, but these four were the only ones who had survived their childhood. The one who stood at his Father's right hand was the one that Elia had to assume was the oldest, with craggy features and a frown on his face that could be used to sharpen a sword better than any whetstone. Balon, Balon Greyjoy was the oldest and the heir.
The others had names, but she did not know them. The man standing to the left of Balon...she did not have the words for it, but he unnerved her. Both of his eyes were blue and shinning and his hair was oily black just as the stone of the throne that his Father sat on and in main way he could be called comely as he smiled. But something about him caused Elia dread, and she already knew that she would do better to not be alone with him and was glad that she had brought her knife with her.
On their Father's left, a man stood even taller than the Lord of the Iron Islands. His shoulders were broader and his neck looked thicker and the man's face was also set into a frown, his eyes narrowed at her but only for a moment before he scoffed and turned his head away from her, apparently thinking Elia was beneath his notice.
And the last of Quellon Greyjoy's sons seemed to be the youngest and the one with the least amount of care in him. A wine goblet dangled from one hand as his eyes lazily drifted over the strangers that had come into his Father's hall before like his older and bigger brother, seemed to decide that they were not any of his concern before bringing his goblet back up to his lips.
But Quellon Greyjoy and his sons were not the only ones in his hall, there was a group of men. Fifty or so and considering that some of them were dressed in velvet and silks, it was clear that they were not from the Iron Islands. Two of the men, both of whom did not seem to like her considering they were burning holes into her with their glares, did seem very familiar to her for some reason but she could not place them for some reason.
"Well." The voice of Lord Greyjoy, croaking yes but it was clear that there was strength in it as well, drew the eyes and ears of everyone in the hall to him. "I do not think in the history of House Greyjoy that we have ever entertained such a large number of people. It is good to know that we can hold so many people without the rest of the castle falling into the sea, at least."
"Lord Greyjoy!" One of the men who had been glaring at Elia called out, his hair was a pale blond that was close to silver and he himself was pale with eyes that were a deep and dark purple. Her was grabbed in purple velvet and there was a silver sea horse with amethyst eyes pinned to his doublet and all of a sudden it came to her, who the man was. "In the name of the King, I command you to arrest these traitors!"
The response that Lord Lucerys Velaryon, Master of Ships on King Aerys's small council, received was probably not the one that he was hoping for. Instead of a command from Lord Greyjoy for his men at arms to come and seize them, all he did was merely raise an eyebrow at the lord. "I don't think I will. Considering all five hundred of these people are armed and they are already inside my halls. I've never had much of a taste for bloodshed, certainly not pointless bloodshed."
As Lucerys spluttered about in impotent rage his companion, rather a plain looking man in a black doublet and white trousers who Elia now knew to be Symond Staunton the master of laws, stepped forward. "My Lord, none of us would ever dare expect you to bring harm to someone under your own roof. However, I can not deny that I find it troublesome that you are allowing traitors into your hall in the first place. I cannot imagine that the king will be pleased when he hears of this."
"Perhaps he will not." Lord Greyjoy gave them that. "And yet I doubt the King in Storm's End, or whoever rules in his name, will not be happy that I am also allowing the councilors of Aerys the Mad. I did not invite either of your sides into my castle, you took it upon yourselves to come to me. It's hardly my fault you are here at the same time."
"Perhaps it is not, but all the same you swore a vow to obey the King. And to keep his peace." Lord Velaryon went on, his purple eyes burning with rage. "To even consider hearing these rebels speak their treason could be considered treason itself, if you do so. If you wish to truly bring the Iron Islands into the realm in proper, then I would suggest sending them away."
"Yes, thank you my Lord. Thank you for tell me what I should do in mine own hall. Now, I've heard you talk. Honestly, I did not think that any man could speak so much." He spoke and Lord Velaryon's face went red which, when paired with his silver hair, made him look rather silly. A quiet chuckle went through the hall, and it was not limited to the men that had come with Elia nor with Lord Grejoy's sons. "Let us see what the woman has to say, see if she wields words as well as you do."
The lord beckoned her forward and Elia went forward to meet him. "My Lord, I am Elia of the House Martell. My husband is Lord Eddard Stark, heir to Winterfell and a member of the regency council for King Renly of the House Baratheon. The first of his name, I am grateful to you for allowing us into your hall. Pyke is-"
"The most beautiful castle you've even seen, you've heard many stories about what a fine warrior I am. My sons are strong and handsome, my daughters, if I had any, are the prettiest and sweetest and most gentle maidens you've ever seen. The food from my kitchens taste finer than any you have ever tasted." Lord Quellon said it all with a tone dripping in contempt. "I have heard much and more of it before, I would make it and I would do it quickly. False flattery will not be of any aid to you."
Elia nodded in understanding, took a moment to find her feet and started again. "My Lord, the simple fact of the matter is that we have come here to ask you for your aid. King Aerys is a mad man. He has burned innocent men alive for no great crime, he has burned men whose only crime was questioning him. Children who were starving and stole bread from his kitchens were fed to the flames. No man is safe from his flames."
"Any man can feel his wrath. The Spider, the spymaster that he has brought over from his Essos, I have heard tale that he is the true Hand of the King." Lord Velaryon gasped and attempted to interrupt her but Lord Quellon held up his hand to stop him. "He hovers around the king like a fly, my Lord. And whispers that every man is a traitor, even those who are innocent of such, what is to stop Lord Varys from one day whispering into his ear that the Lord of the Iron Islands is a traitor to and that he must feel the flames."
"Princess Elia weaves a gripping yarn, it cannot be denied. In fact I would say that she has missed her true calling as a murmmur." Lord Symond spoke, moving forward to stand at her side. "But what she does neglect to mention is that siding with her would make you a traitor in truth and in deed. King Aerys is someone who does not suffer treason lightly, and the punishment for such a vile act is death, as it has always been."
"And if the men who had been sentenced to death for treason had been committing treason then so be it!" Elia exclaimed. "But it is not just treason that is treason in the King's mind. Breathing at the wrong moment is treason, a jest is treason. The king sees treason in every single shadow! You have already had us in your hall, my Lord, he will not forget that. You will already be a traitor in his mind."
"Unless we don't tell him! Send them away Lord Quellon, and the King will hear nothing of this from us."
"Unless the Spider worms it out and tell him, which I wonder how many times that has happened?"
"Enough!" Lord Quellon called out and they both turned to look at him and the old man was rubbing his eyes. "You both wish to have my ships? My aid? Well, I do not know which of you deserves them. I am more tempted to send you both away and have done with the lot of you." He sighed. "I am an old man and I am tired and it is late. I will consider what you have both told me, you may stay in the Guest Keep tonight, there should be enough room for all of you. Now, get out of my sight. I will decide in the morning."
Lord Quellon stood then from his seat and walked out of the chamber via the door in the back and all four of his sons followed him. The rest of them in the hall began to slowly fall out of the great hall and Lord Symond choose that moment to come over to Elia. "My Lady, I am sorry. Turn away from this treason, return with us to King's Landing and plead mercy for yourself and your husband. I will speak for you and will Lord Velaryon, nothing needs to happen to you. You can go home."
"Now, who is spinning me a yarn? Goodnight to you, Lord Symond." Elia joined the rest of honor guard in leaving the chamber and then the sour breathed steward had been informed that he was to show them to the guest keep. Sadly, that meant crossing one of the bridges those thankfully it was not one of the wood and rope ones.
All the same, she did not intend to look down.
Her honor guard was so large that it would take time for the steward's staff to find room for all of them and it was clear that some would need to share room, Elia, Larra and Nymeria were shown to their room first. It was near the top of the keep and the room and it was a large room with a fire already burning away in the heath.
Larra and Nymeria were quick to make a bath and helped Elia into it, she could not deny that the warmth of the water was enough to make her sleepy. Her aching muscles adored the water and for half a moment, all her worries and fears melted away into nothing.
Alas, she could be freed of it forever. "So, what now?" Nymeria asked as she washed her hair. "We need the Ironborn, we have no choice in that." A smile came on her face, and Elia did not know how she felt when she realized that it somehow made her look like her grandmother, her father and her uncle all at once. "If Lord Quellon is not so inclined, then perhaps one of his sons would be more advantageous to us. He's an old man, old men die all the time. And one of those rope bridges look right to break at any moment."
Elia slapped her, the water splashed over the tub and Larra shrieked and fell backwards and Nymeria brought up her hand to cup her sore cheek as she looked at Elia like she was seeing a stranger. Elia swallowed and tried to ignore the stinging in her palm. "I'm sorry, I aim, but do not suggest that again. I mean it, do not."
"I am sorry Princess. It won't happen again" Nymeria bent her head and allowed her hand to drop to her lap, cupping her hands together. Elia nodded and then climbed out of the bath and commanded them both to help her dress.
The moon was high in the sky and full once Nymeria and Larra had helped her to dress. She commanded the both of them to remain in the chamber and then picked up a lantern and left the chamber. Every step she took made her feel tense, like each one would make her lungs explode. She made her way down the stairs as slowly as she could, making as little noise as she could.
She made it to the bridge and into the main keep when one of Lord Quellon's sons caught her, he was the one how had been standing next to Balon Greyjoy. The one with the bright blue eyes and the thick black hair and when he saw Elia, he smiled at her. "Princess, it's late. You should be abed, did the steward forget to put a chamber pot in your bedchamber? Ah, forgive Sylas, he's useless and a drunkard of course but his two sons drowned only a year ago, his wife threw herself from the battlements and his daughter, well, such a shame. But I won't replete that tale for your ears."
His words were sad as was his tone but his eyes were laughing. This one is dangerous. Elia cleared her throat and tried to hold on to her nerves. "How terrible for him, you are kind to think of him so my Lord. Forgive me, I do not think I had the pleasure of your name."
"Euron, my lady, Euron Greyjoy."
"Lord Euron. I merely could not sleep my Lord, I thought that I might and tire myself by walking. And you know, I think that it has worked. So, if you will excuse me. I think I shall return to my bed." Elia turned and quickly tried to hurry away, but she stopped when Euron called after her.
"My Father has milk for blood, he will not declare for you. I am afraid. Oh, he won't fight for the King either. He will have us sit on these rocks and wait for the war to come to an end." When she looked back, the younger man was leaning against the wall. His blue eyes almost seemed to glow in the light of her lantern. "I on the other hand, would be more than happy to help you. Alas, my Father is a stubborn man as well as a craven one. I am not certain if the Stranger has the patience."
"And of course, I am only his second son. But I was just thinking of paying a visit to my dear older brother. If you were thinking of paying a visit to my dear Father." He leaned out of her from the darkness and in that moment all Elia wanted to do was turn and run away. That, or smash the lantern into his face before running back.
"I was going to visit your Father my Lord, I have something to discuss with him. And then I was going to go back to my bed so that I might be well rested for when I hear his decision in the morning." There was silence then, and in the darkness all the laughter in Euron Greyjoy's blue eyes vanished only to be replaced with something darker, something so terrifying and cold that Elia knew she should have run when she first thought of it.
But as soon as it was there, it was gone and the younger man let out a deep and long suffering sigh as he pushed himself away from the wall. "Ah well, a pity that. It seems then that I am doomed to endure Balon's poor company for even longer. I will leave you then to go and speak with my Father. But you cannot say that I did not warn you. Oh, and do be careful crossing the bridge. I think a storm might be coming. And even on the stone bridges, I've known men be swept off into the sea."
And just like that, Euron Greyjoy left her alone. He had been swallowed up into the darkness and Elia hurried on. It didn't take her long to find the lord's solar, all she needed to do was find the door that had guards on it. The guards did not seemed inclined to let her pass and so she called out to Lord Quellon until he finally came to the door and opened.
"For the drowned god's sake woman, get in here and shut the fuck up!" Elia walked into the solar and Lord Quellon slammed the door shut and stormed over to his desk. Elia sat down in front of the desk and Lord Quellon sat down on the others side of the desk. "So, you've come to try and convince me? I am not sure how."
"Unless it's to seduce me." Lord Quellon scoffed. "Go on then, it's been to long. Get on the desk and I'll give you my fleet."
"Give me your fleet and I won't put a knife in your throat." Lord Quellon stared at her in shock and for a moment Elia thought that she had made a mistake but then he began to laugh, a loud sound like thunder clapping. He slammed his hand down on your desk. "Well, I have heard you Dornish ladies had some fire. I do need a new wife, perhaps I should marry you."
"My Lord, you honor me. Alas, I am married to a man I do so love and two children, boys." The thought of Mors and Torrhen filled her with sadness, were they thinking of her now then? Wondering when she would be coming home? Did they hate her for leaving without explaining where she had gone? Would they ever forgive her if they did?
"A pity." Lord Greyjoy's words brought her out of her thoughts. "Very well then, no marriage. But I warn you, I am not like to support your or Aerys. We are thinly peopled, we aren't much like to make a difference either way. My sons would have me go to war, but they are young and drunk off the tales of Ironborn glory they learned at their nursemaid's teats. They do not know what it means, they don't know what it costs."
In the end, Elia Martell respected Lord Quellon Greyjoy all the more. "None of us want war, my Lord. But sometimes, as awful as it is to think, it is something that is needed. When a Mad King who burns his lords and smallfolk alive for sneezing in his presence, that is such a time. If you stay out of the way and let it happen, can you truly claim to be any better than him?"
"I did not make any claim to be better than him, if your plan is to shame me into helping you then I am afraid you are very much mistaken. I don't care about you greenlanders, I care about the men and women of the Iron Islands. I care about our survival. Nothing else matters to me." He rose. "Why do you I think I outlawed reaving? Cause I wept to see all the women being carried off and the blood we spilled? No. Because I understood."
"I understood that one day, one king or other would no longer tolerate out raids. One day, a king would rise who would come to stop us, put us down and make another island out of our skulls. I won't let that happen, so yes, I will make ourselves sweeter for your greenlanders but that is it. Not because I care about any of you."
"So again I will ask you, why should I help you?"
"Because we need you." Elia said matter-of-factly.
"Yes, well I know that. But I am afraid that isn't much of a reason for me to help you."
"Oh no, my Lord. It is every reason to help us." When she saw a spark of curiosity in Lord Quellon's eyes, Elia leaned forward. "Tywin Lannister and Mace Tyrell have declared for the King, therefore so have the fleets of Lannisport, the Arbor and more than likely the fleet of Oldtown. He wants you, only to deny us any presence on the waves. If you sided with him now, what would you get? A pat on the back? A thank you for your lead service?"
"We need you, you would be the hero of our little Rebellion. You could ask for anything and we would have to give it to you. Lands, honors, titles, gold. All of them, and more." Elia smiled. "I wonder, when was the last time an Ironborn sat on the King's small council? After all, who better to be Master of Ships, than an ironborn."
"Master of Ships." The man repeated, and Elia could see that he was interested in the offer. He cleared his throat and tried to hide it but he had already shown his weakness. "And you think that I would want that, to serve a greenland King? I would be laughed at. I would lose any sort of authority that I have over my bannermen."
"You've been laughed at before. You were laughed at and hated when you outlawed reaving. You were laughed at and hated when you outlawed thraldom. You were laughed at and hated when you stopped men from taking salt wives. You've been laughed at and hated for so long, and yet you are still here. Harder and stronger."
"What is dead may never die."
"What is dead may never die." Elia repeated, and she know that she had him.
She returned to her bed chamber without issue but was not able to sleep a wink and so she went to the window and stared out to the sea as Larra and Nymeria slumbered and looked up at the moon as the waves crashed against the stone far below, inevitable.
A knock came at the door before dawn, it was the steward and Lord Quellon would see them now, in their shifts it seemed. He escorted them, and only them it seemed as Elia noticed that none of her honor guard had been rose from their beds and Elia could here men snoring in their rooms, down to the bridge and across it and into the great hall.
Lord Velaryon and Lord Staunton were waiting for them in the great hall as well, both of them were still in their night clothes and Lord Quellon was atop his throne in armor. His sons were not there but he was not alone, twenty-five ironborn men were armed and armored and each of them carried either an axe, a club or a mace. One of them was terrifying, a beast of a man with a long scar that split his jaw and gave him four lips instead of just two.
"I thought that it was time that I let all of you know my decision. I've decided to throw my support behind Storm's End. It's time for a new king, even if this one can still taste his mother's milk." Lord Velaryon had gone pale and he looked like he was trying to say something but he seemed to be stuck on saying the word 'you', over and over again.
Lord Staunton it seemed, had more dignity in defeat. "It is a mistake, my Lord. And one I very much fear that you will soon live to regret. But worry not, we will not darken your halls a moment longer. We will take ship back to King's Landing just as soon as we are dressed and ready to go."
"Oh, I think not. Dagmer, take them." The man with the scar let out a roar and soon he and four other men had surrounded the the lords and had them bound with rope and dragged them out of the hall, both lords protesting all the way.
Once they had gone and silence had fallen on the hall once again, Elia turned to look up at Lord of House Greyjoy who sat on his throne. His other twenty guards had remained, to protect their lord. "They had other men, most might not submit to captivity easily."
"They will be dealt with."
"If I had not convinced you, would I have been carted off in rope and used as a hostage?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because five hundred is not fifty, I don't fight a battle I do not think that I can win." He smiled then, and funnily enough, Elia soon found herself smiling as well. "You've won woman, Ironborn will fight and die for your boy king and may the Drowned God help us all."
"Thank you my Lord, do not let those two go. The King's Master of Laws and his Master of Ships, they will be valuable hostages."
"I'm not a fool, now be off with you. Wake your men up and get out of my castle. I've agreed to help you, it doesn't mean I want you on my island anymore than I have to." Elia nodded and turned and began to walk to the door, Nymeria and Larra falling in line behind her and Elia was certain that she had seen a smile on Nym's face, she had almost made it to the doors when Lord Quellon called out for her.
"And don't forget, I expect what I am owed." He spoke and Elia nodded and left the hall.
She didn't look back.
End of Chapter Eighty-One
I've gotta to be honest, I was looking forward to writing this chapter.
While the Ironborn chapters in canon are never my favorite, I do like the characters. I really hope that I got Euron right. I hate what they did to him in the show.
Quellon is also someone that I really wanted to make sure that I got right, we never meet him in canon but he did outlaw all of these things and I wanted to show why someone who was raised in a culture like the ironborn might do that.
Also, speaking of Euron I want to address his eyes. Theon in the books suggests that underneath his patch, his eye is black and full of malice. Keep in mind, the last time Theon saw Euron was probably over a decade ago and he more than likely just giving his opinion on what is under his uncle's patch so that's why here both of his eyes are blue.
As for the patch itself, I think Euron doesn't get it until later on.
Any who, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter.
Please leave a follow, a favorite and a review. Constructive Criticism is always welcome.
With a ton of love,
DiscordantSymphony