The Kraken and the Lion
Chapter 15
by Technomad
Asha LannisterAsha was busy, figuring out just what supplies she'd need to take on the Black Wind. She knew roughly how far it was to Lannisport, and what the prevailing winds were, so she had a pretty good idea of just what she'd be needing. At least, one good thing about this battle, she thought mordantly. My crew is smaller. With a smaller crew, she'd be less pressed for supplies, and after the near-total destruction of Stannis Baratheon's navy, there'd be very little chance of being challenged at sea. The Iron Islands themselves were still at least nominally at peace with the rest of the realm.
She estimated that a few days, at most, would get them to Sunspear in Dorne. She had never been there, and looked forward to the experience. She had heard from people with experience of the Dornish that they were like no other people on the Westerosi mainland, or at least, in the Seven Kingdoms. They had an unique style of fighting, with spears, instead of swords, as the main weapon, and she planned to get in some good sparring with them while they were there. One drawback to a longship was that it couldn't stay too long at sea, which forced her to hug the shores.
Her husband…her husband!…waddled in. "Eager to be back at sea, my love?" he asked lightly. She smiled and kissed him. To her delight, Tyrion had turned out to be an excellent sailor, and knew enough to stay out of the way of her crew when they were working.
"I can't wait! The open ocean ahead, the wind in my hair, the Black Wind heeling under sail…there's nothing like it! I don't know of anything I like more!" He gave her a quizzical look, and she grinned and amended: "At least, I don't know of anything I like more that I can do with my clothes on!"
"Glad to hear it. I'm packing very light. Most of my clothes are back at Casterly Rock anyway. I hadn't ever planned to be in Kings Landing for this long." Tyrion looked pensive. "What a long, strange trip this has been…"
"You've seen a lot of things I haven't seen yet. Like the Wall," Asha reminded him.
"And some of them, I'd have as soon given a miss to. Like the Eyrie, and the sky cells." Tyrion scowled at the memory. "I still owe that bitch in the Eyrie, and her damned sister from Winterfell, a debt or two."
"Unfortunately, they're both out of our reach," Asha sighed. "The Eyrie's about the opposite of an easy target for my folk, and Catelyn Stark's with that damned son of hers, last I heard."
"At least I armed the mountain clans," Tyrion grinned evilly. "They and the people of the Vale have no love for each other, and the mountain men suffered for lack of arms. Now the odds are more in their favor, and the Vale's going to be paying a high price for Lysa Arryn's folly."
"Serve her jolly well right." Asha was ironborn, and that did not make her sympathize with enemies. Or with fools; her reaction to hearing about how Catelyn Stark had grabbed Tyrion, and her sister Lysa had nearly executed him, had been "Are those people absolutely barking mad? You're not just a member of the most powerful noble family in the Kingdom, you are…or were, at the time…the king's own brother-in-law! You aren't just some peasant they can do with as they please!" She knew that Catelyn's impulsive act could have forced the Lannisters into war with the Starks, and since the Lannisters effectively controlled the King…"If I were married to such a damn fool, he'd rue the day he pulled a trick like that!"
Once her packing-up was in hand, Asha went to make her formal farewells to her new good-family. Little Prince Tommen ran up to her, his eyes full of tears. "I love you, Aunt Asha," he whimpered, burying his face in her side as he embraced her. "Don't go away! Please! I like your stories!"
Asha felt an odd lump in her throat. She'd never had much to do with children before she came to Kings Landing, being far more interested in things like ships and the finger dance, but Tommen was an appealing little fellow and clearly missed his sister very much. She reached down and ruffled his hair gently, and he looked up at her with huge green eyes. "I'm not going away for good, dear. I just want to go with your Uncle Tyrion for a while. We've just been married, and married people like to go off by themselves for a while. I'll be back, and I'll bring you some nice things. And by that time the war may be over, and I can take you out on the Black Wind. Won't that be fun?"
"Yes…" Tommen sounded doubtful, but at least he wasn't leaking tears any more. "You promise? You'll come back?"
"I'll do that for sure! Your Uncle Tyrion and I will be back, and that's a promise!" She was rewarded with a beaming smile and another hug, and Tommen ran off on some incomprehensible childhood errand.
"I'm glad to see you're so kind to my grandson," came from behind her, and Asha turned to find herself faced with Lord Tywin. "He's been lonely since his sister left; his brother isn't the best older brother that he could have, and his mother is very busy."
"No doubt," Asha said. "And I take it that you've got little time to spend with him, too?"
"True enough," Tywin shrugged. "The Hand of the King has a full-time job, particularly when the King is not able to rule himself." There was a double-entendre in that last statement, but Asha refrained from pointing it out. "When Joffrey's firmly of age and able to rule, I may take a break and head back to Lannisport myself."
"If Tyrion and I are still there, we'll be sure to give you a warm welcome!" And with that, Asha went on down to the docks to check Black Wind over.
Her crew were putting the final touches on the ship; all cordage had been inspected carefully, the sail had been taken down and checked over carefully for weak spots, and the hull glistened with a new coat of black paint. Toward the bow, the name Black Wind was spelled out in gold painted letters. Atop the mast, the black flag of the Greyjoys with its golden kraken flapped in the breeze.
"We're all ready, ma'am," said Lorren Longaxe, leaning on his crutch. "The new crew members we've recruited from the other ironborn ships are eager to go. As soon as the tide shifts, we'll be on our way."
"Good." Her lone crew woman, Jinjur, came up. "What is it, Jinjur?"
"Here's the list of the victuals we've stocked aboard. We're going to be sticking close to shore, but if we're blown out to sea a ways we may need to be able to feed ourselves for a while." Jinjur handed Asha a list. Asha perused it and nodded; it leaned heavily toward sausage, cheese, dried fruits and other things that would last a while at sea.
"Good. You've done good work, Jinjur. Are you going to miss Kings Landing?"
Jinjur grinned, brushing her red hair back off her face. "There are nice men here, and they are different from the ones back at Pyke. I'll want to come back." A shadow crossed her face. "At the same time, it'll be good to be at sea again, and good to be back in Pyke. I'll have lots of stories to tell the other girls about my adventures!" She winked, and Asha knew that some of those adventures had likely involved men; Jinjur was by no means averse to male company, although she kept her sticky fingers off her crewmates, wishing to avoid complications. Asha approved completely.
Tyrion LannisterTyrion was taking a last look around the Red Keep when his sister swept in, a procession of one. "Well, looks like we're going to be losing the pleasure of your company, dear brother," she sneered. "Pity you didn't stop an arrow in the battle! You'd be more use that way than any other!"
"And I love you too, sweet, sweet sister," Tyrion purred. "I do wish I could stay around to watch all the fun you'll have with Father here in Kings Landing! Maybe he'll marry you off! Weddings are in the air in our family!"
Cersei went red, then white, then red again with pure rage. Tyrion grinned to himself. He knew his sister, and knew fully well that she regarded remarriage with utter distaste. "I. Will. NOT. Marry. Again!" she snarled, biting off each word and spitting it out as though it tasted unutterably foul.
"You will if Father says you will. He's Hand of the King, and you're only Dowager Queen. And even Joffrey can't stop you being married off if Father wants it." Tyrion grinned nastily. "I wonder who it'd be? Balon Greyjoy's wife is ill, and may die soon. Wouldn't that be fun, with both of us on the Iron Islands?" Cersei looked like she was going to have a stroke. "Or maybe the Florent heir? He's a little the worse for wear, but he should be able to give you lots of healthy children! I know how much you love children!"
Cersei let out a strangled cry of rage, and reached for Tyrion…just as a familiar voice drawled: "My, what close, loving kin you are! What a good example you set to the smallfolk!" Whirling, Cersei saw Asha lounging in the doorway, an amused expression on her face. "Tyrion, your father sent me up here. He wants to talk to you about some of the Hand business from before he came. He's in the Small Council room."
"I'm on my way!" Tyrion slipped out, wishing that he could stay; he'd worked Cersei up into a pinnacle of rage, and he would have loved to see what happened when she tried taking it out on her new good-sister.
Asha LannisterAs she strolled into the room, Asha looked calm, but underneath, she was as tense as though she were about to go into a duel. She figured she'd come along just in time to keep sweet Cersei from assaulting Tyrion, which infuriated her. Asha and Theon may not have always gotten along, and Asha wasn't a bit above teasing Theon, but unlike this blonde bitch, she'd have never laid violent hands on her brother. And not just because, as an ironborn, he'd be likely to plant a dagger in her ribs for such an affront.
"I do hope I wasn't interrupting a fond farewell?" Asha asked lightly. "I know how much you love your brothers."
Cersei's eyes narrowed. "And what do you mean by that, you barbarian bilge-rat?"
Oooh, touchy touchy touchy! "It just strikes me as odd that, of all the children your late husband fathered, only yours are towheads. Do you have anything you'd like to tell me about how that happened?"
Cersei sneered. "Luck of the draw, I guess. Those good Lannister genes always come out on top. And who'd want to keep track of my dear, dear late husband's whorings? I certainly wouldn't!"
"In the Iron Islands, we have a saying, darling," Asha purred, fluttering her eyelids mockingly. "'A wife who exhausts her husband in bed needn't worry about him straying!' Pity you never thought of trying that, isn't it? But then, I guess poor King Robert wasn't into partners who made it clear they'd rather be anywhere else, doing anything-or anyone-else. Pity I never met him; he sounds like much too nice a person to be saddled with a frigid, pompous, bossy, aging wife!"
"Aging?" Cersei's voice shook with rage, and her fingers curled into claws. "What do you mean, aging?"
"If you weren't Queen, or, at least, Queen Dowager, Cersei, I doubt you could get any man to look twice at you! You've gained weight since I've been in Kings Landing…and are those gray hairs I'm beginning to see?"
"You shut your filthy mouth, you fish-stinking whore!"
"Funny you should mention whores," Asha smiled, looking at Cersei sidewise. "Because, darling, it's my considered opinion that if you had to make a living on your back, you'd starve to death! You'd be a worse whore than you are a mother, and, judging by Joffrey, that's pretty bad!"
Cersei let out a banshee shriek of rage and launched herself at Asha, who had been unobtrusively poised to meet the attack for a little while. Cersei tried to punch Asha, but Asha easily blocked and delivered a savage jab straight to Cersei's middle. The Queen doubled up with a strangled "Oooof!" but was soon back on the attack, grappling Asha and trying to get her fingers around the ironwoman's neck.
Cersei was strong, Asha noted, and had no give-up in her; however, she had expected no less. Whatever she thought of the family she'd married into, she acknowledged freely that if one was looking for cowards, they'd best not waste time among the Lannisters, because they didn't breed any. Asha snaked her foot around Cersei's feet and shoved, overbalancing her and sending both women crashing to the floor.
The shock of hitting the floor seemed to energize Cersei, who launched a flurry of punches and kicks. Asha was startled at first; she'd thought that taking it to the floor would knock the fight out of Cersei. However, she was ironborn, and had never backed down from a fight in her life. Asha head-butted Cersei, punched her in the stomach again, making her groan, and got a handful of the Queen's glorious long blonde hair, banging her head against the stone floor.
After two or three good bangs, most of the fight seemed to have leaked out of Cersei. Asha rolled her over, straddling her good-sister. "Give up? Or should I really get rough with you?"
Cersei looked disbelieving; Asha noted that both her eyes were blackened and her nose and mouth were bloodied. Finally, she gasped: "I yield. You win." Carefully, not trusting Cersei an inch, Asha got up, noting in passing that one of her arms was wrenched badly and would need to be treated carefully over the next few days, and that some of Cersei's punches had landed very solidly.
The fight seemed to be out of Cersei, though. Slowly, she gathered herself and got to her feet, running her hand over her face and looking disbelievingly at the blood she picked up. "You…you…" Then she turned and ran, sobbing heartbrokenly.
Asha looked after her. She had known this day would come, and had been confident of victory. But at the moment, the taste of victory was like ashes in her mouth.
END Chapter 15