The Kraken and the Lion, Chapter 03

by Technomad

Asha Greyjoy

The next morning, Asha rolled out of bed, feeling bright-eyed and chipper. After dressing, she tiptoed down the hall, peeking in on her crew. She was greeted with a symphony of loud snores, and a smell of stale wine that could have knocked her on her rear. She gently closed the door, grinning to herself.

Last night, at dinner, her crew had been introduced to a liquid refreshment called "Arbor gold." They had taken to it eagerly, pouring it back and yelling for more. Asha, up at the high table with the rest of the nobles, had had a cup of it in front of her. While it was completely heavenly, she had known that she wanted a clear, non-aching head the next morning, and restricted herself to the one cup. Queen Cersei had been less temperate, and had become visibly tipsy by the time the evening was over (and many of her men were under the table) but she had noticed her brother, Lord Tyrion, looking at her with approval in his mismatched eyes.

If Asha was any judge, she figured that when her men finally did wake up, there'd be groans of pain and calls for chamberpots to throw up into. She spotted a passing maidservant, and told her to have some manservants on call nearby, to help her men through their hangovers. With a bounce in her step, she went down to the Great Hall. She could smell breakfast, and unlike her men, she had a hearty appetite for it. Exercising with the mountain clansmen had been fun, but had tired her out well and she had slept like the dead.

The Great Hall was all but deserted; it was early in the morning. Asha sat down at a table, and soon an attentive servant was placing a tray in front of her. She smelled the savory odor of sausages, ham and a big omelette, and soon she was eating heartily. On the Iron Islands, even the nobility sometimes had short commons, so she had learned early on to eat when she could; there was no guarantee that the next meal would be on time, or fit to eat when it came.

"Ah, I see you're up early too," came a familiar voice, and Asha turned to see Lord Tyrion waddling into the hall. He perched himself on a chair across from her, studying her intently. "I am often the only person up at this hour, other than the servants. I don't really sleep too well."

"Really, my lord?" Asha finished off her breakfast and took a sip of watery ale. At this hour, she did not want a fuzzy head. "I slept very well, myself. All that exercise, topped off with that wonderful meal…" She gave him a big smile. "This place is wonderful! I loved meeting your mountain clansmen! May my men and I exercise with them again?"

"I don't see why not," Lord Tyrion answered. "The Small Council has other business to take care of today, and you won't be required. Why don't you go explore the castle? If you get lost or turned around, any servant will be happy to show you back to where you want to go."

That sounded excellent to Asha. She didn't want to have to deal with her hungover crew, and being on the other side of the castle when they awoke with pounding heads, dry mouths and heaving bellies struck her as a good idea. She loved her countrymen, but she had to admit, ironborn could be hard to deal with sometimes.

After the servants took her plate and cup to the kitchen, she rose, bowed politely to Lord Tyrion, who returned her bow with a slightly odd expression on his face, and headed off down a promising-looking corridor. Soon, she was happily exploring what seemed like miles of castle, peering out of windows, admiring tapestries and carved wooden panels, and not quite believing the sheer size of the Red Keep.

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion had been rather surprised to see the ironwoman up so early; he had thought, on one level or another, that she'd be like her countrymen, and lost in hoggish slumber until late forenoon, if not early afternoon. To see her up, chipper and clearly ready to face the day had startled him, but not, he decided, in a bad way. He preferred people who could show moderation when allowed a free run at the wine casks.

He heard a soft sound behind him, and turned, to find himself facing Sansa Stark. The Stark girl looked like a hunted animal to him, but then, she always looked that way after her betrayal by Joffrey. Tyrion felt a moment's fury at his nephew. Couldn't the spoilt, arrogant brat appreciate this beauty and protect her vulnerability, instead of venting his rage on her whenever he got the urge? Keeping a smile on his face, he greeted her: "Good morrow, Lady Sansa. I hope you slept well?"

Sansa Stark bowed politely. She was always polite. Tyrion had had little to do with her missing younger sister, Arya, but from what he had seen, the sisters were as different as night and day. "Good morrow, Lord Tyrion. Yes, I slept as well as usual."

Tyrion did not miss exactly how she had phrased that answer. He wondered if she was having trouble sleeping, and made a mental note to have a maester look her over; preferably one who was unthreatening enough that she might open up to him. He didn't like looking into her eyes, himself. Her face was still and serene, but her eyes…a look into them revealed a whole universe of sorrow and loss. Tyrion was by no means the most compassionate man in Kings Landing, but he bled inside at what this innocent girl had been through, largely, to his shame, at the hands of his own kin.

"Have you seen my fiance?" asked Sansa. She glanced around, fear in her eyes.

"If you mean my nephew, my lady, I haven't seen him yet today. Is there some reason you wish audience with His Majesty?" While Tyrion privately thought his nephew wasn't fit to clean privies, he was, at least in title, King, and he was generally careful to refer to him with appropriate respect. Bow to the office, not the man, was one of his father's maxims, and his father had survived years as the Mad King's Hand.

"No…no! I just…" Sansa stopped, clearly at a loss.

Tyrion was able to fill in what she wanted to say, without any effort. Her lessons in ladylike behavior didn't include anything on what to do if you're an unwanted fiancee of a royal brat who's bidding fair to be the next Mad King, as well as the sister and daughter of "traitors!" He tried to ease things for her. "Today His Majesty is going to be spending most of the day in the tiltyard, practicing with arms. Are the ladies planning to be practicing their needlework? Maybe you should join them?

"Yes! Yes, I will. Thank you, my lord!" With that, Sansa ran off, reminding Tyrion of a mouse in a cat-infested house. He was reminded of his lost Tysha for a second, and shook with the urge to grip his nephew by the throat and throttle him till his face turned purple.

Asha Greyjoy

Asha had found a lovely courtyard, and sat down on a bench in the sun to enjoy the day. She liked the climate here much better than the Iron Islands' cold, grey mists. Sitting back, she tilted her face toward the sun, smiling and closing her eyes. It was very pleasant.

After a few minutes, she felt herself being observed, and cracked open one eye to find herself being carefully scrutinized by two golden-haired children; a girl and a younger, rather plump boy. "Good morning…I can't say I've had the pleasure?"

The children bowed and curtsied respectively. "I am Princess Myrcella, and this is my brother, Prince Tommen. We're the younger sister and brother of the King." Aha! Asha had thought they looked familiar, and she now could easily see the strong resemblance they had to their mother and elder brother.

Getting to her feet, Asha bowed back. "I am honored to meet you. My name is Asha Greyjoy. I am the daughter of Balon Greyjoy, lord of the Iron Islands, and his representative here at the royal court. I am also the captain of the Black Wind longship. You may have seen us coming into harbor."

"You're a ship captain?" Both children's eyes went very wide. "That must be very interesting! Where have you gone? Have you ever been to Braavos? Is it dangerous?"

Asha smiled. "Yes, I'm a ship's captain. There's a saying in the Iron Islands that 'every captain is a king on his own ship.' Or 'her own ship,' in my case. It's interesting, and it can be very dangerous. And I've been to many places, and yes, that does include Braavos. Would you like to hear about my travels?"

Both children nodded, looking up at her in wonder. Asha sat back on the bench, closing her eyes and summoning up memories suitable for recounting to young children. "Well…on my first trip off the Iron Islands, when I was not much older than you are…"

Tyrion Lannister

Tyrion had been able to keep fairly close track of Asha Greyjoy's wanderings through the castle, thanks to the servants, who were happy to tell him when and where they had seen the ironwoman passing by. She had been fairly systematic, exploring the main floor as thoroughly as she was allowed to.

In the throne room, she had paused below the Iron Throne, looking up at it for a long time, her expression unreadable. Tyrion wondered what she had been thinking. Tyrion himself privately thought that had he been in King Robert's boots, he would have commissioned a different throne; the Iron Throne was a Targaryen idea, and the Targaryens had all had a streak of madness.

Tyrion grinned to himself. Had his father led the rebellion, they'd have had a Golden Throne, if Tyrion knew his father. Tywin Lannister would never, never have condescended to sit his exalted rump on a throne contaminated by any lesser family! He thought about suggesting the idea to his sweet sister and nephew; having them working on designing a throne suitable for the exalted arse of Joffrey the First would at least keep them out of his hair.

Tyrion hadn't been Hand for very long, and he could clearly see that he had a great deal to do. Unfortunately, while Joffrey at least left the Small Council alone to do its work, Cersei attended meetings and couldn't resist putting her oar in. She combined utter incapacity for ruling, on a level that made her late husband look like a perfect king, with utter assurance that she knew everything and nobody else was fit to clean her privy. Between having her around and some of the other people on the Small Council, even without the various rebellious factions, the kingdom was in trouble.

Tyrion sighed, and went out to a small courtyard that he favored when he wanted to think. It wasn't much frequented, and he could be alone there, which suited him. He knew what he looked like…how could he not? But he didn't care for people looking at him out of the corners of their eyes, or muttering "Imp," "halfman," or "freak" as he walked by.

When he got to his courtyard, he found that, unusually, it wasn't empty. The ironwoman Asha was out there, and she had apparently made friends with his other nephew and his niece! They were hanging on her words, wide-eyed, as she told them a tale:

"…And then, Harlaw the Horrible strode forward on the deck, yelling 'Out of my way!' as he readied his harpoon. The sea monster roared in pain as Harlaw threw his deadly spear, piercing it through the heart. The storm raged on as the ship shook with the fury of the waves, but the terrible sea monster was dying. His crew shouted their approval, and leaped to the attack. Soon the dread beast that had sunk so many longships was dead, and the crew began to cut it up and flense it…"

Tyrion listened for a few minutes, hugely amused, before clearing his throat. Tommen and Myrcella turned, their eyes widening with joy to see their uncle. Unlike their horrible older brother, they had always liked and gotten on well with Tyrion, not least, Tyrion thought, because he was about their size.

"Uncle Tyrion!"

"Uncle Tyrion! Look what we found!"

"She's an ironwoman, from the Iron Islands! We never met one before! She has her own ship! When I grow up, I want to have a ship, and have adventures, too!" Tyrion's eyes went wide. He pictured Cersei's reaction to her sweet daughter's wish to become a sea captain, and suppressed laughter with main force. Cersei would shit herself sideways!

Lady Asha got up, looking slightly sheepish. Blushing, she bowed. "Terribly sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to lead your nephew and niece astray, but they were so eager to hear about the islands, I thought I'd tell them a story or two from the old days there."

"No problem, my lady. I'm glad to see you get on with them so well. However, Myrcella, Tommen, I do think it's about time for your lessons. Say farewell for now to Lady Asha…and don't pout, she'll be around for some time, so you'll get to talk to her again…and go find your tutors, please." If it had been Joffrey, this would have been the signal for a spectacular battle of wills, but Tommen and Myrcella were both good, biddable children. They politely bade Lady Asha goodbye, thanking her for telling them a story, and ran off to find their tutors.

"So, Lord Tyrion. At last, we're alone. Tell me, what is the real situation here in Kings Landing?" Humor and intelligence gleamed in Lady Asha's dark eyes, which Tyrion found hugely appealing. He tamped down a truthful answer with an effort.

My sister and oldest nephew are running the kingdom into the ground, the smallfolk are starving and likely to riot sooner or later, we've got three rebel armies outside our walls who'll come a-knocking to be let in sooner or later, and we're all likely to end up with our heads on spikes… "Complicated, my lady, complicated. You may find yourself wishing you were dealing with sea monsters instead of this before you're through."