Chapter 67: The Krakens drown forever
301 AC
Robb
He sat in the small throne that his soldiers had brought with them from Seaguard. He looked upon the rocky terrain of Harlaw in front of him and the wild seas behind him. He watched the small company of riders cantor across the opposing hill towards him. The white banner of peace they carried could be clearly seen, as it waved in the wind. Next to it, the scythe of House Harlaw danced among the sea breezes..
Their journey here had been even less eventful than anyone could have hoped for. A squadron of ten ships had foolishly tried to stop them in Ironman's Bay, but they had been destroyed by the Mallister ships with help from the two warships from Flint's Finger. After that, their landing had gone unopposed. In less than a day, they had taken control of Myre Castle. They had killed the two remaining adult male Myres and its pitiful garrison, while taking the women and the children hostage.
He had decided to make it their base for conquering the island and by now, over five thousand of his men and most of their horses and supplies had been disembarked in less than two days' time and more were still coming every hour. Harlaw was doomed and it seemed its lord knew it as well.
He waited in the open, as he sat upon his throne. The most important nobles in his army stood around him. Lords Mallister, Cerwyn and Glover stood closest, together with his uncle, Torr and Ser Donnel Locke. Around them stood minor lords, seconds sons and revered captains. Patrek Mallister was in the bay, commanding his father's fleet.
The arriving group counted twelve people. Five of them seemed to be guards, while the others were clearly nobles of some kind. In the middle rode a man, around fifty years of age. He was average-looking with brown hair and eyes and had a neatly trimmed grey-haired beard.
The older man jumped from his horse with surprising skill. He was followed by the other six nobles, while the guards held their distance after a signal from the man in charge. As he approached, he held his own breath steady and made sure his face betrayed nothing.
The rider slowly walked towards him and when he had come to a distance of some eight paces from the throne, Torr menacingly put his hand on his sword. The Ironborn took this as a signal to halt and looked him in the eye. It had been a completely empty gesture, as Grey Wind took up most of the space between him and the ironborn. His direwolf had lazily sprawled himself before his throne, his head resting next to his right armpiece and his ears perked up looking for any danger.
For a second, he said nothing as both men studied each other. In a show of strength, the Ironborn leader only glanced at the imposing direwolf the size of a large pony. He neither flinched nor gawked at the magical beast. Grey Wind reacted equally unimpressed, yawning loudly while looking around at the other Ironborn. Whilst their leader showed calm and strength, some of the other nobles where less able to keep their emotions in check.
"Greetings, King Robb Stark, I am Rodrik Harlaw, Lord of Ten Towers and the entire island of Harlaw. Allow me to introduce my companions." He simply nodded in response.
"On my right is Ser Harras Harlaw, my cousin's son and my heir." He looked at the Ironborn knight, a rarity in itself. Yet, he had heard of the man's story. His mother had been a Serret, which had given him a much more Southron upbringing than the other Ironborn. The man seemed gaunt and had clearly lost his left arm, as there was nothing but a stump below his elbow.
"On the left, you have Lord Sigfry Stonetree and next to him is Lord Maron Volmark, some of my most important vassals." He looked at both lords. Both seemed to be callow boys, no older than he was but with fewer experience. However, on further inspection it could clearly be seen that at least Lord Maron sported some battle scars, implying at least some degree of experience in war.
"The remaining three men are members of my house. You have Theomore Harlaw, Harron Harlaw and Dykk Harlaw. All masters of their own seats on the island." This surprised him. He had heard of the minor rulers of the Harlaws. The names he knew were Hotho the Hunchback, Boremond the Blue and Sigfryd Silverhair. Yet, none of those were present. It seemed House Harlaw had incurred more losses than he had known until now.
He nodded respectfully to all of them. "Greetings Lord Harlaw, around me are some of my most important nobles. You can see Lords Mallister, Cerwyn and Glover, as well as the heir to House Locke." He said, as he pointed them out with the necessary decorum. "Next to me are my brother-in-law, Torrhen Karstark, and my grand-uncle, Ser Brynden Tully."
"Blackfish", the Lord of Harlaw respectfully nodded towards his uncle. "Reader", his uncle returned the gesture. This brought a small smile on the lips of the leader of the Ironborn.
"You have come here under a white flag, I see." He stated, his face as unmovable and unreadable as Northern ice.
"I have." The simple reply came. He could see some of the Ironborn behind their lord shuffle in annoyance, but Lord Rodrik remained calm. He waited for him to elaborate. "I have come here to negotiate.'
"Negotiate you say? From where I stand, I have no need to negotiate. I greatly outnumber your remaining forces and have taken control of the bay. More soldiers and supplies are unloading as we speak. The fall of Harlaw is but a matter of time."
"So, you say. Yet, I know this island as no other. We have mines and caves and hills on the island. Hidden alcoves and creeks dot our coastline and although it is true that we have taken substantial losses, our population remains large in contrast to the other islands. We could resist your occupation for many months, while bleeding your patrols and garrisons. We will probably lose in the end, yes, but you will bleed with us I can promise you that."
The lord was right of course. He could burn every keep and town on the island in a week's time but controlling the island with a hostile population under the Harlaw flag would be a nuisance he wouldn't want to have to deal with. "You could always surrender and save us the trouble and many lives on both sides on top of that." He shrugged in reply.
"I could and I might be willing to, but only under the right terms. It is not the Harlaws that you seek vengeance on, nor the Volmarks, the Stonetrees, the Kennings or even the unfortunate Myres, which you have already so cruelly beaten down. We both know Harlaw is not your target, we should not bleed and pay while others escape the dance. It is known that I have been no staunch support of any of the Greyjoy brothers ever since I lost both my sons during Balon's first foolish rebellion. It is not my people that should pay."
"Aye, that much is true. Yet, you have emitted certain other facts. Your vassals and kin all sailed off and joined Balon and after that Euron. Some served in the Iron Fleet under Victarion Greyjoy. Some, it seems, will sport the scars from those endeavors for the remainder of their days." He replied, as looked upon Ser Harras and Lord Volmark.
"You're right. However, what do you accuse me of? Of loyalty grudgingly owed to my liege lord? I thought of all people you would appreciate loyalty even in disagreement, after what the Freys tried to do to you. Besides, all men have paid for their support of Balon and Euron. You point to those supporting scars, but they are the lucky ones. Both my cousins will never return. My granduncle died a broken man after seeing three of his grandsons dead in the waters of the Redwyne Strait. They have suffered enough. They need not be punished more." Lord Rodrik responded bitterly.
"You may be right that I can't fault your loyalty to your overlord. Yet, you refuse to name the most important issue. Even now you raise your banners in support of your niece and nephew. A nephew that has betrayed those who cared for him in the past and attacked my home. He almost murdered my sister, her friend and her direwolf companion and succeeded in butchering her other friend, an eleven-year-old girl and the daughter of one of my most loyal and esteemed bannermen. A niece, who supported him in this and attacked my lands and people. Killing, murdering, raving on her own accord. Siblings on their search for glory and renown on the backs of my people and family. That is where the main issue lies, my lord."
Lord Rodrik sighed. "They are the legal heirs to House Greyjoy and they are my blood. What do you suppose I do?
"Forget about them. The time of House Greyjoy has ended. My lords demand vengeance and I will give it to them. Neither your niece nor your nephew will leave the North alive and whoever sits the throne at Pyke will be sent to your Drowned God soon enough. A new time will come for the Iron Islands, if you wish it or not. The only choice you have is whether to help build and construct a new era or perish with the old one. Personally, I care not."
This led to a great shock among the ironborn, whilst Lord Rodrik was sizing him up. "You would end a house dating back to the Time of Heroes?"
"Aye, I have done it before, and I will do it again after this if needed. The Greyjoys have shown time and time again that making treaties with them is useless. They'll betray you at every chance you get. Not only Balon and his brothers, but their ancestors Dalton and Dagon too. Every time that one tries to reform, his sons turn everything back to worse than it was. I'm sick of it." He replied, the tone of his voice hard as iron.
The Ironborn looked at him in horror. His message was clear, even their houses weren't safe from getting destroyed. "What about the Iron Isles after House Greyjoy has ended?" Lord Rodrik asked.
"I won't annex you the way you are. I neither have the time, coin or energy to do that and to be honest I can't be bothered. That leaves me with two options. Either I kill you all and repopulate the islands with people from the mainland or I destroy the culprits, get assurances that you will change your way of live and leave you to govern yourself."
Now even Lord Rodrik seemed taken aback. "You would kill us all?"
"Aye, if I had to but I'd rather not. I don't particularly like killing innocent women and children, but I'll do it if I deem it necessary. Just ask Lords Glover and Cerwyn here what happened at the Twins, they were there. I won't lose a night of sleep if the same were to happen to a nation of rapists, reavers and murderers."
"However, it would take time, energy and resources you'd rather spend elsewhere?" Lord Harlaw tried.
"Exactly. So, I will make you an offer." He said, as he clapped his hands together.
"I'm listening."
"All of you men here and your other vassals on the island and other islands that join you may keep their lands and their titles." A sigh of relief was heard from some of the ironborn in the back.
"However, all houses of note will be forced to send hostages to the North. They will be treated and taught according to their rank, but it is a condition I will not drop. Concretely for you, I want hostages of Houses Harlaw, Stonetree, Volmark, Kenning and Myre. Refusal will mean the end of your house, big or small. The same will go for the other islands."
Uneasy looks were exchanged between the Ironborn, but all nodded. Their culture had survived the hostages that had been sent to the mainland after Balon's Rebellion, so they knew it wouldn't break them and they were used to the idea.
"Secondly, you will take an oath in name of your house and your descendants to never raid Westerosi lands again. What you do on the Stepstones or in Essos I do not care about, but you will never do it here again. I am aware that that will change your way of life and that's why my third demand is that you set up continuous trade routes along the Western coast. From Bear Island to Oldtown. You will allow Northern and Riverlander traders to operate in the isles at will, we will give concessions in certain ports to your people. This will greatly benefit both our peoples and may bring peace and stability with it." Lord Harlaw simply nodded.
"A fourth demand is that you pay tribute to me. Correct me if I'm wrong, but your country is not equipped to pay any real war reparations. Especially after I'm done with Pyke. To make up for that, you will pay yearly tributes for the next twenty-five years. I will have a look at all individual houses and islands once I have taken control of Pyke. All Ironborn have plundered the North and its trade, all will pay."
This greatly pained the ironborn, but yet again they relented. "My fifth and last demand may be the most far-reaching." At this, all Ironborn peaked forward. "You will release all thralls on the islands. Those taken from the mainland who wish to return will be allowed to do so with their children, no matter the identity of the father. Those who are not willing to return will be given lands or homes on Pyke and other islands that refuse to bow down to these turns. If you do not wish them to depart, you can always grant them lands and wages yourself."
"You can't do that! The economy of Stonetree and much of the isles depends on thralls. Without it we have no one to work in the mines!" Lord Sigfry Stonetree called out. Lord Rodrik simply turned around in annoyance. He didn't care. "I can and it has been done before. Lord Quellon had outlawed thralldom less than thirty years ago. We may not remember, Lord Stonetree, but I assure you that your liege lord will. Considering the jobs in the mines, you can always ask them to stay for a fair wage or go in there yourself."
Lord Sigfry seemed taken aback by his unwillingness to compromise, but the second look of Lord Rodrik finally shut him up. "Harlaw agrees, but on a few small conditions." He raised his eyebrow in response, the Lord of Ten Towers took it as a sign to continue.
"You will confirm all heirs to their positions, not only lords." He nodded. "All hostages will be sent back to the Iron Isles at age sixteen at the latest and no marriages will ever be forced upon them." He nodded again. "When deciding the tribute, you will acknowledge the readiness of the Houses of Harlaw to accept and take that into account when calculating the owed sums." He grinned but nodded again.
"The … remains of my niece and nephew and all other noble Ironborn that died in the North will be given back to their families so they can be buried in our own customs." He looked long into the eyes of the older man. He wished to hang Theon's remains from the Weirwood Trees like the First Men of old with only the crows to pick at his flesh, but he knew that wasn't worth this peace. Besides, the dead deserved rest wherever they were from. "I accept." He responded.
"You will let the Iron Isles choose their next overlord themselves out of their own number." The final demand came. He thought it over in his head. "I accept with two conditions of my own."
"Yes?" Lord Harlaw asked. "The thralls that received lands on Pyke and possibly other places will be considered Ironborn and will have the rights to vote and even candidate. I will not meddle in the election in any way. On top of that, your ruler will be autonomous, but he will not receive the title of king. Not until your people have proven to uphold the terms.
Lord Rodrik exhaled and looked at his vassals and kin before turning back towards him. "We accept."
"Very well, as a sign of goodwill I will hand all captives of House Myre except one over to your care. The one I will hold as a hostage and take north. I will take Myre Castle as my point of supply and command during the campaign against Pyke. Afterwards it will be returned in order to your men. My men will not touch your stocks nor your people, you have my word."
"I thank you, King Stark." Rodrik Harlaw responded with a nod.
"Then I guess we are done here. We will leave your lands in peace. After Pyke has fallen, we will talk again."
The lord nodded and mounted his horse. In silence, they rode off again.
Immediately after they left, Lord Robett Glover spoke up. "You're letting them walk off with nothing? The island's riches are there for the taking. We could have our revenge and be better off with it."
"Aye, Robett we could. However, the Harlaws are not who we want. I will offer no peace to anyone on the island of Pyke and there will be more than enough riches there to satiate your desire for coin and revenge. This Rodrik is smart and Harlaw has much téo gain from trade. A lot of people live on the island and it is prosperous, it would be great market for your traders to go to. They will need wood to build their ships and furs to keep them warm during the winters. They themselves could sell you lead, tin and iron. House Harlaw has much to offer and to gain and this Rodrik knows it. He will be our agent of peace amongst his peers. Many of his peers will have died during the war and he might be the only senior one left. No, we keep this one alive and happy and in line. The others will feel our wrath."
Robett looked at him wearily for a few moments, but then simply bowed his head. He stood up and his group of lords disbanded. I need to send a message to Jon. After that, I need a drink.
(Four days later)
Jon
Pyke's lands were neither extremely fertile nor were they lands of rock were nothing could be grown. He looked over the land as far as he could see, as he waited for Robb to turn up. He didn't have to wait long, as soon the sound of an army marching could be heard over the hill. At the front of a long column rode his brother, flanked only by Grey Wind.
Without saying a word, Ghost bolted off towards him and Grey also strode forward. The two greeted each other by snapping and nipping at each other, as they jumped around. He grinned at the sight. Soon after, he greeted his own brother. After he had dismounted, they clasped arms and then pulled each other into a hug.
"I have to congratulate you once again with your campaign in the Westerlands, Jon. You did an amazing job that won't be forgotten."
"I thank you Robb, but here is no need. You gave me a task and I did it, nothing more." Robb grinned at him, while shaking his head slightly. "You'll still be rewarded for it, whether you take credit or not." He laughed.
"What about this campaign? How does it go?" His brother followed up the remark.
"It goes better than expected. The extreme losses the Ironborn have taken combined with their civil war have taken away the will to fight for many. Everywhere we go, men surrender. Especially after what happened at Salftcliffe."
"Salftcliffe?" Robb asked, as his eyebrow perked up. "You don't know yet?" His brother moved his head, saying no.
"House Saltcliffe and House Sunderly were on opposite sides of the civil war. The Saltcliffes supported the Greyjoy cousin, while the Sunderlys still supported Theon. Both had some vague family bond with their respective Greyjoy branch. They refused to surrender and even attacked both our ships and our landing parties. As response, I have set Houses Bolton, Flint, Ryswell and Dustin upon them. Divided they are no match. Saltcliffe has already been reduced to rubble, House Sunderly will soon be next. The island of Saltcliffe will be made an example of what happens when you don't surrender on sight. I don't expect the other islands to give us any more trouble."
"Wow, Jon … I didn't know you could be this ruthless." His brother responded in surprise.
"War hardens everyone brother and it wasn't only your sister that was hurt, Robb." He replied seriously. "You also have to take into account that I had the Greatjon and both of his sons with me, as well as the Mormonts and Ser Wylis Manderly. I couldn't really do nothing. On top of that I'm simply sick of war. I don't want to go on another campaign on Great Wyk or Orkmont. Better to get this over with swift and bloody rather than slow and bloody."
Robb nodded. "I agree. I long to go home and see the granite walls of Winterfell again. I don't want Ironborn scum to hold me here for longer than necessary. I have pacified Harlaw and between the carrot there and the stick at Saltcliffe I think the other Ironborn will soon fall in line."
"We don't want them to fall in line to quickly, we still need to take Pyke."
"Whether they want to surrender or not, will make no difference. Pyke will know no survivors." Robb's grim reply came.
"Good, I fancy myself some squid. It would be a shame if I would be forced to give up on that prospect." He responded in kind.
His brother simply nodded. "You said that you set the Boltons and Flints on Salftcliffe. Why not the Umbers or Mormonts?"
"I promised both families some targets on Pyke, which placated them. Domeric was also eager to show that, although loyal, House Bolton can still be as menacing as before. He greatly appreciated the opportunity. The Ryswells and Dustins follow him and the new Lord Flint also wanted an opportunity to prove himself and gain glory." He explained.
"Aye, that would do it. Good thinking, now what will we do about this gods-forsaken island? I want to leave no stone unturned and no Ironborn still living."
Those words would often resonate in his head, as it expertly summarized the campaign of the following days. The western side of Pyke was destroyed village per village and farmstead per farmstead. All thralls were released and Ironborn were hunted. The Mallisters burned Iron Holt to ashes and the Umbers, Glovers and Mormonts were let loose upon Lordsport. In a matter of hours, House Botley and all its subjects were no more than ash and bones. Now, all that was left upon the islands was Castle Pyke.
The fortress build upon a few islands was surrounded both on land and on water. Trebuchets and catapults had been transported from Seaguard and they bombarded the seat of House Greyjoy all day long. Already two of the islands had collapsed with half of them sinking back into the sea and killing all of their inhabitants in the process. This process would be repeated until nothing was left of the ancestral stronghold of the Greyjoys. Their time had come. They would never be allowed to return.
Thrice the newly crowned Thoron Greyjoy had tried to negotiate a surrender. Thrice it had unanimously been rejected by their army. A dangerous precedent had been set by Theon Greyjoy by attacking Winterfell and managing to get inside through trickery. They needed to show the whole of Westeros that trying things like that came with consequences. It had been thousands of years since Winterfell had last fallen and Theon had come closest of all those that had tried since then. House Stark needed to show strength, both to outsiders and their own vassals.
They also had a special duty to Houses Umber, Mormont and Manderly. Daughters of these houses had been present when Winterfell had been attacked. One had died, the other had been wounded together with Arya and Wylla had been frightened to death. Family of House Cerwyn had been in the castle at the same time. Everybody needed to see that House Stark could protect their subjects and that if a mistake were to happen that they would offer gruesome vengeance as a consolation price. Otherwise none would send their children to Winterfell anymore.
While the Umbers and Mormonts had destroyed Lordsport, the Manderlys had been the first ones through the breach when they had taken the mainland part of Castle Pyke. Slaughter had ensued just the same as in Lordsport. The Riverlanders in the army had objected beforehand and that's why Robb had sent a lot of them under Lord Jason Mallister to Iron Holt.
For hours now, their catapults had pelted the main keep and parts had already been breaking off. Incidentally, the notion that the Ironborn were still holding on to their demand of negotiations was ridiculous, but also reality.
Suddenly, a loud crash could be heard and he could see a corner tower completely collapsing into the sea as he looked over. Not long after a stream of Ironborn came outside of the keep on the drawbridge. Many were limping and all seemed to be covered in piles of dust from the debris that had come loose. Many were holding improvised white flags.
Without a word, Robb strode over to his horse that had already been walked up by his squire. To his surprise, his own squire had done the same. He walked over to the Slate boy and fumbled his hair. "You're doing great lad, remember me of this at dinner and you will receive the rewards you deserve." The Northern boy seemed to grow an extra inch, as he puffed out his chest with a proud smile on his face.
Robb rode on asked him. "Is that Lord Slate's grandson squiring for you?" He nodded. "Good choice. We can't forget to show our gratitude to the smaller lords. It will also serve you well to be friends with those lords once you take command of your own keep." He said nothing in reply. He had thought that out long before. "Who's your squire now?"
"Mine? He is the new Lord Darry. A regent is ruling his lands while he serves me. He seems to have been a friend of Bran when they were at Riverrun together."
"Not a bad choice either, this will entice the Darrys to you for years." He responded. "Let's hope!" His brother laughed, as he spurred his horse on like he had done when they were kids. He laughed back and rode after him, the only ones keeping up with them being their direwolves.
They stopped around a hundred feet away from the stream of people. Not much later dozens of their soldiers arrived and surrounded the people, who all ceremoniously bowed in defeat. All surrendered and laid down their weapons.
In the front was 'King' Thoron Greyjoy. The man's dark clothes were almost grey from the amount of dust and debris that stuck to it. In the front was clearly visible the Greyjoy kraken, while a driftwood crown adorned his head. While most Ironborn looked defeated, this man just looked angry. Something wasn't right here, but he couldn't pinpoint what. As subtly as possible, he spread out his legs in a more solid stance. It would allow him to draw Blackfyre much quicker.
Robb bid the Ironborn king to come closer and he did. The man slowly walked forward. His bodily stance showed nothing but defeat, yet his eyes looked way too sharp. When he was some twenty feet away from his brother, the man suddenly charged. He had been ready for it from the moment he had started moving. He stepped forward and checked the man with his right shoulder and pushing him back. He stepped back and used the time and movement to pull his Valyrian steel sword out from the scabbard over his right shoulder.
Without looking, he knew the Ironborn was already being circled by two direwolves. He felt it in his bones, but this one was his kill. The pure gall to think they could kill his brother, while having already wounded Arya and Nymeria was too much. It was time he drew blood. The Ironborn King charged at him. A large knife, that he had hidden under his tunic, in his right hand.
The Greyjoy charged like a desperate man. He bent his legs and swung his ancestor's sword through the air in response. The Valyrian steel sung in the wind, as it cut of the man's sword hand in one clean swoop. The Ironborn screamed, as he looked at the stump and the blood that was streaming out. Not giving him any reprieve, he sidestepped and took his head clean off.
All of this happened in a matter of seconds and before the body hit the ground two direwolves were already looming over it. Ignoring their companions, he walked over to the head. He grabbed it by the hair and simply pulled the driftwood crown from atop it. The crown he threw at Robb, while he held up the head in his left hand and Blackfyre in his right. He looked around in silence at all the Ironborn.
"Does anyone else want to try and kill my brother?" He shouted. "If so, step forward now. I will not clean my sword twice. He let the threat hang in the air for a while, before he turned towards Robb. His brother was just smirking at him and he smirked back. He looked at the head he was holding and simply threw it away and walked back to his place on Robb's right side.
When he was back in position, Robb theatrically looked at the driftwood crown in his hands and loudly said "you won't be needing this anymore". He broke the crown in two with his bare hands and threw both parts to opposite sides of their soldiers. "Can we use it to make a fire, Your Grace? It could help ignore the clamminess of this desolate rock." An overly courageous soldier called out, whilst he picked up one of the pieces.
Robb simply laughed and shrugged. "Do with it whatever you like. Build a latrine with it if you wish." This caused the whole army to laugh, while the Ironborn looked upon the spectacle with anger and shame.
"What to do with you know?" He said aloud to the group of people. "All men over the age of fourteen will be send to the Wall. All noble ladies and girls will be sent to the Silent Sisters and all noble boys and noble bastards will be trained to the be sent to the Wall at the age of fourteen as well. The common women and children will be sent to Harlaw and released there. The same goes for all other captives on the island. Those who refuse are to be executed where they stand." Then his brother simply turned and walked away. He followed suit in silence, not once looking back at the people staring at them in anguish.
(Ten days later)
Robb
He had finally gathered all the remaining important nobles of the Ironborn. In front of him sat Lord Rodrik Harlaw and his maimed heir Ser Harras. Most lords at his side were new, as many of the original Ironborn had died during the subsequent wars. Present were Lords Joron Blacktyde, Balon Tawney, Dagon Orkwood, Donnel Drumm, Gyles Farwynd, Marnon Merlyn, Garmond Goodbrother, Dagmer Stonehouse, Steffarion Sparr and lastly there was Eldred Codd, regent and uncle to the young Lord Codd.
All of them had lost family and friends during the war. For most of them that was the only reason they were here. They sat in the chair that had once belonged to their fallen family members. "You wish to do what to Pyke and Saltcliffe?!" The young and loud Lord Dagon Orkwood screamed.
"I do not wish to do anything. I am telling you what is going to happen. Both islands will be given to those thralls that do not wish to go to the mainland. All thralls on the Iron Islands will receive a choice. They will be allowed to return to the regions they hail from and will be helped with transport. All children born to thralls under the age of ten will also be allowed to return with them. Those that do not wish to return or those that have nothing to return to will be given Pyke and Saltcliffe. They can elect their own lords, choose their own government and way of life. This will be their compensation for what you did to them."
"The children to thralls are Ironborn." Lord Garmond Goodbrother grunted. At the same time, Lord Dagmer Stonehouse asked what would happen to Houses Greyjoy, Bottley, Wynch, Saltcliffe and Sunderly.
"We originally planned for all children of thralls to be able to return. However, those past weeks have thought us that the elder ones have indeed become Ironborn in spirit. Therefore, those between ten and sixteen will be considered as such and won't be allowed to return to cause havoc among their estranged kin." He answered Lord Goodbrother.
Then he turned to Lord Dagmer. "Those houses are extinct, if you ask me. Especially House Greyjoy will be so. I want every male Greyjoy, young or old to be delivered to me. They will be sent to the Wall. That retched house will end for what they did to my sister and generations of my family and people. My father had to fight them, my ancestor Beron died fighting them. It ends here. The other houses won't be persecuted, but they won't ever get their lands back. The free Ironborn of those two islands will be send to your domains. They can help make up for the lost workforces."
"You can't do this!" Lord Dagon Orkwood screamed again. "I can and I will. If you don't like it, you can try to stop me. I will simply add your house and island to the list." He responded menacingly. This finally seemed to stop the brazen nobleman.
"Who will rule the islands? Or will you leave us to descend into chaos?" Ser Harras Harlaw asked. No wonder he asked that, Lord Rodrik was the most likely candidate to succeed and he would be the heir.
"I propose that you choose someone amongst yourself now. You are the highest-ranking lords of the Iron Islands. I will not meddle with it, but I want it done today. I want trade to flourish between our kingdoms, as that will be the only way to ensure a beneficial peace for both of us. I will not allow you to descend into chaos. The chosen lord will also be the ruler of Saltcliffe and Pyke, but he will not be able to change the demographic shift."
"We can't decide that here! We would need to organize a Kingsmoot on Old Wyk!" Donnel Drumm loudly remarked with many of the other Ironborn supporting him.
"No, you won't. You can choose your overlord from among your own, but he will not be named king. Every time your Ironborn proclaim a king, death and destruction follows. This will not happen now." He replied.
"If we can't choose our king, who will be king? Do you expect us to bow to you?" Garmond Goodbrother grunted.
"No, I will not meddle in your internal affairs. However, you would all be good to remember what happened to Houses Greyjoy, Bottley, Wynch, Sunderly and Saltcliffe. If any of you tries to raid my lands, disrupt my trade or in any way endanger the safety or diplomatic position of my kingdom or people, I won't hesitate to come back and burn another one of your islands. I will allow your people and culture to survive only if they adapt itself in such a manner that they don't threaten me or mine. The only reason I am doing this is because I can't be bothered to hunt you all down for months, not because I am unwilling or incapable to do so. Give me any reason to think that this is a mistake and I will not make it twice. Do we understand each other?"
Grimly, all Ironborn acknowledged him. "Good, then I will now leave you to decide amongst yourself." He said as he stood up and walked out of the tent.
Jon, who had been quiet throughout the whole conversation, walked up to him. "Are you sure about this? They will hate you forever for this."
"Aye, they will, but it is not their love that I seek. Robert Baratheon tried to be loving and forgiving to everyone. As a result, he was cuckolded, murdered and his family and kingdom fell apart before his body was even cold. The Ironborn have proven to only use their love as a way to replenish their forces. Some people do not respond to love, so I'll have to keep them in line in other ways. I will never be loved by them, but I will be feared. It will be fear that will keep them in line. Fathers will tell their sons not to go and raid the North for what happened to the Greyjoys, Bottleys and Sunderlys, not because they love me."
Jon nodded. He didn't fully agree, but he had accepted that some harsh measures were needed. The breaking of their whole economic system by outlawing thralldom would set the Ironborn back for centuries. Their only way to partly fill that void will be to trade with his kingdom or the Westerlands and that might just give stability for the next century.
He walked over to Cley. "How goes the identification of the thralls?" He asked his friend. He had been tasked with organizing the thralls of Pyke and giving them the choice to stay or depart. "As well as can be expected. Most thralls are from the Reach, followed by the North. Smaller numbers, especially those above thirty years old, are from the Riverlands or the Westerlands. Other than that, you have some peoples from the Stepstones or even Essos. The longer they have been here and from the further away they have come, the more likely they are to stay on the islands. Lord Flint mentions similar news from Saltcliffe."
"What about those the Harlaws have brought with them?" Lord Rodrik Harlaw had brought seven hundred freed thralls with him, to show how serious he was about following their deal. "They have a similar composition. However, more of them wish to leave the islands." Cley answered.
"How many want to leave?" He asked. "From those coming from Pyke and Saltcliffe around a third, from those that came from Harlaw around half of them."
"Very well, you are doing great Cley. Make sure that all of those that hail from the North and their children will be able to sail with us when we return home. Give those that hail from the Riverlands to House Mallister. They will take care of them. I will ask the commander of the Westerlander fleet to take his people back in time."
"What about those from the Reach?" Lord Cley Cerwyn asked.
"Keep them together and keep them safe. A solution will be sought for them soon."
"It will be done, Your Grace." Cley bowed with a grin, as he walked away. All his former friends had by now come to terms with the fact that he was their king. In public, all paid him the proper respects. Yet, it always happened with a playful or mischievous grin. Some Riverlords had commented on it, but he had waved their concerns away. They had been his friends since childhood. What they did was more than enough.
Ser Wylis Manderly walked up to him next. "We have found three more Greyjoys, Your Grace. One of them is barely old enough to remember his own name."
"Make sure that they are put on a ship towards Barrowton. From there they will go towards the new orphanage that will be built at the Wall." Ser Wyllis bowed and left as well.
"How goes the progress with the orphanages?" Jon asked.
"Very well, Alys has successfully expanded those in Winterfell and Lord Manderly has followed her lead in White Harbor. Lady Dustin has done so as well, although she refuses to take any more children from King's Landing in. She has expanded the capacity for those orphaned because of the war in the Dustin and Ryswell lands. Other lords have started their own small orphanages with subsidies coming from Winterfell. Most will be filled with local children, yet I plan to spread out a small number of Southern orphans there as well, especially the younger ones."
"Those in the Riverlands go much the same, although most lords are less picky when it comes to taking in those from the Crownlands. Rodrik Umber seems to be starting to take advantage of this. He is more than happy to be rid of more underaged mouths to feed and has organized for another hundred of them to be sent to Fairmarket and Duskendale on his own. Yet, the man is clever. The only exceptions he has made are for family members of the men that have served in his regiment during the war, be they dead or alive."
"That will bind those men even more to him and will entice others to join him as well. I agree, a very clever move. What about those at the Wall?"
"I have sent word to the Lord Commander to build two big orphanages in Mole's Town, one for nobles and one for common boys. I proposed to provide the costs for those buildings, as well as running them for ten years. I also included other ideas to help develop Mole's Town into a center that can help them repopulate Brandon's Gift in time. Better roads, a palisade, a town watch, land reforms in the area and other things like that. We'll see what happens."
"You mean to fund all of that?" Jon asked.
"Aye, most of it at least. We have sent over a thousand of our enemies to the Wall. The last thing we need is for them to rebel because they feel neglected. Besides, I want to make the Night's Watch more self-sufficient. I don't want my sons to have to deal with the problems we have going on at the Wall. Without the Skagosi, Clans, Umbers and Karstarks the Wall would have fallen. The wildlings would have overrun the North. This cannot be allowed to happen again. I will fund development and help them with trade deals. I will try to make it so that we won't have to send troops there in the future and our northern flank is secure.
"I agree." Jon responded. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but they were suddenly interrupted by Ser Harras Harlaw. "Our decision is made, King Stark."
"We will follow you inside." Once he had taken his seat back, he looked around expectantly at the gathered Ironborn rulers. "The Ironborn have chosen me and my family to lead them in the years to come." Lord Rodrik Harlaw proclaimed proudly.
That was hardly a surprise. He congratulated the man, but he was far more interested in how the others were reacting to the news. All seemed content enough, except for two. Dagon Drumm and Garmond Goodbrother barely hid away their scowls. Those two would be trouble and they were very powerful. Yet, Lord Rodrik was more than capable and had lost less troops in the recent civil war. Peace would be ensured for at least as long as the man lived. After that, they would have to see.
If all went well, they would have at least ten to fifteen years, hopefully more, to prepare for any future unpleasantries. Maybe the established trade and past fostering of the hostages would have helped calm down relations. Besides, the Iron Islands would need to recover for more than a generation to be able to even threaten him, probably multiple generations.
In truth, he could understand the two young warrior-lords. They had, in all but name, been reduced from a kingdom ruling the Sunset Sea to a dependency of his own kingdom. That was the price they paid for trying to kill a Stark in their ancestral seat.
He walked out of the tent intent on talking to Lord Umber, when Jon stopped him. "I have chosen a new name for Blackfyre."
"You have?"
"Aye, it will from now on be known as Frost. It can deal out a nasty bite, just like we and our direwolves can." Jon explained.
"It also closely resembles Ice." He remarked.
"Aye, it does. I want it pay respect to both sides of my heritage."
He smiled. "Very well, Jon. Frost it is. Any thoughts on a new name for yourself and your future house?"
"No, I haven't gotten that far. It will come to me eventually. I don't have a wife yet, let alone children. I still have time." His brother countered calmly.
"You're right. I'm just trying to help you. Once we are back in Winterfell, we will start looking at a place for you to build your keep. I promise you that it will get preference on any other projects I want to build. The western coast needs an extra stronghold anyway. It won't do that there is no keep to stop raids between the Glover and Ryswells. If you get the home you deserve, it will all help the North too."
"Ever the practical administrator are you?" Jon grinned. "You'd prefer for me to slack off? I could also arrange for you to only get your keep once your grandchildren are all grown up." He answered with his own grin.
Jon sighed and rolled his eyes. He simply clasped his brother on the back and together they walked across camp.
This is all for this chapter!
Robb and Jon deal with the Ironborn. Their revenge is swift, cruel and decisive. House Greyjoy and Pyke and are no more and the Ironborn culture is left as only a shadow of its former self. Harsh turns are enforced by Robb with a simple warning. "Cross me again and I will genocide your entire civilization."
Lord Rodrik Harlaw becomes the new overlord of the Iron Islands, showing that most Ironborn choose peace. The Umbers, Mormonts and Manderlys finally get their revenge as well and Domeric Bolton reminds everyone that House Bolton is still alive and just as dangerous as before to its enemies.
Jon renames his sword Frost. I went back and forth between 'Frost', 'Frostbite' and 'Legacy' for a long while, but this is it now. If any of you have any ideas on how Jon's house should be called, please feel free to comment it or to send me a PM. Just not any names with Targaryen or Stark in it.
Next chapter, Robb and Jon will finally return home after two years south of the Neck.
Thank you for your support!
Fannic
Reviews:
- Cravingsforthesoul: Not always. I have never met my grandfather, great-grandfather or great-great-grandfather, but I have read a lot about their lives and feel connection and pride towards their accomplishment. Their choices still have an impact on my family to this day. That isn't entirely Hollywoodesque, although some aspects may seem so. I found the Rhaegel moment a crown jewel moment personally. Receiving Blackfyre and the Targaryen heirlooms were also very important. He will still become his own man soon enough. He already has the reputation of being a great leader and general.
- George Cristian810: Thank you! If the Reach doesn't agree, he will crush them. He doesn't care about Dorne.
- Rebfan90: Thank you so much!
- The Bluest of Winters: It doesn't look to me like you have read all 66 chapters, as Dany has been dead for 6-7 chapters now. I also don't agree with your proposals. It would never work. Dany wants the throne and she will not sit by with three dragons. Besides, Robb can't let them grow older and stronger until they can wipe him off the map.
- Foxy-Floof: He hasn't forgotten. ;-) More on that later.
- Force Smuggler: Thanks!
- WolfLord456: No worries, I thank you for your continued support! What did you think about the Ironborn solution?
- Supremus85: Well no, it won't. I have a self-made document detailing the whole of House Frey (every man, woman and child). I know exactly who is left (90% are dead or sent to the Wall/Septs). Some are in the Vale, especially with the Waynwoods and I have already mentioned a solution to that when those armies first allied. Others are in Braavos, not allowed to return and others were in the Westerlands (Casterly Rock and Crakehall) and those will be handed over to Robb. All Freys are accounted for except two in the Vale, two in Braavos, one exile and some Maesters and Septons but they are prohibited from having children anyway. If you want, I'll forward you the document. House Frey is done.
- MasterOfDragonsGod: You're very welcome!
- Chri110: The Reach you mean? Robb and Jon will be home in the next one, a separate chapter in Winterfell has no use anymore now. However, I could have them talk together that might be a good idea.
Well, the Iron Islands are answered here. The Reach, Ramsey and Wildlings have yet to be answered. The Sparrow has been dead since Chapter 47. No, the Others aren't coming.
Integrating all of the Wildlings is not possible, some are cannibals, some hate one and another and most will not bow to anyone. Robb is also very anti-wildling because of his Karstark upbringing, as he has seen their destruction firsthand. You'll have to wait and see what he does with them but letting them all through won't happen. He'd rather kill them all.
- Cliff West: Thank you! Robb is planning a trading port there and probably a small navy to protect part of the trade. However, the North can't support a Western navy that could threaten the ironborn. It will be like the small navy of the Mallisters. Enough to protect their own shores and discourage raiding, not enough to fight naval battles against the Iron Fleet. You are right about the power vacuum. I think this chapter gives a good indication on who will fill it on what conditions.
- LongingResider: Thank you! Glad you like it. I will adapt my style more and more to this sort of conversations. I have tried to do the same here in this chapter.