The Kraken and the Lion
Chapter 16
by Technomad
Tyrion LannisterAt last, the time had come. Tyrion could have danced and sung with joy. If he never saw Kings Landing again, he'd be perfectly happy. He was leaving today, to go to sea with the woman he loved!
Of course, he still had to perform family obligations. With Asha at his side, he waddled on in to the throne room, to make his formal farewell to his King. At least his sweet sister was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, she had been "indisposed" for a few days, and was sticking close to her rooms. Tyrion smiled to himself. I can't imagine why she wouldn't want to be here. She must be so disappointed, not to be able to wave me farewell…
Up on the Iron Throne, Joffrey was sitting, looking surprisingly regal. Of course, his grandfather was standing close by, and under Tywin's icy stare, Joffrey didn't dare do anything too untoward. "We regret that you feel you must leave us, Uncle, but we understand completely that you wish to enjoy a honeymoon. We wish you a good journey, and hope to see you again in Kings Landing." All completely unexceptional. Except that while he was saying the correct things, Joffrey was looking at Asha like a starving glutton at a platter of delicious food. Apparently, his idea of putting horns on his uncle's head had not gone away.
Tyrion and Asha both bowed. "We regret leaving you, Your Majesty, and your court. We do plan to return, and hope to find you in good health when we do." The ambiguity of language served Tyrion well; nobody could tell if his "you" was singular, and meant for the King, or plural, and meant for the court in general.
Tywin came forward, taking Tyrion's hand rather reluctantly, then clasping hands with Asha with rather more enthusiasm. "We'll miss you around here, and hope to see you here again soon."
Tyrion nodded, knowing that that was meant far more for Asha than for him.
Tywin gestured Asha forward. In a low voice, he said: "I heard what you said to my daughter. For someone who's not been around her as much as some others, you do have a way of knowing how to get her goat." Astonishingly, he winked. "And she is getting a bit saggy around the edges, much as she hates the thought!"
As Tyrion and Asha left, Tyrion's mind was whirling. Apparently his father had not been pleased with what he'd seen of Cersei's behavior since his return to Kings Landing. Ever since Robert's death, Cersei had carried on as though she were the Queen Regnant, instead of Dowager Queen Consort, and her arrogance and cruelty had become more and more overt.
Tywin himself was capable of demonic cruelty…nobody knew that better than Tyrion!…but his cruelty was always controlled, and in the service of his goals. Cersei, on the other hand, would lash out almost at random, and gave not a solitary damn about any consequences. Having Cersei in control of the kingdom, without their father or himself to keep her in check, was a thought that made Tyrion shudder and wonder if the Black Wind was up to a long, long voyage, preferably to the Free Cities. If Tywin died and left Cersei in unchallenged control, the Seven Kingdoms would suddenly become a most unhealthy place for him to be. She'd take any excuse that offered to rid herself of the brother she hated.
Asha GreyjoyAsha remembered the last time she'd gone down to the piers to wave farewell. That had turned into a riot, thanks to Joffrey's asinine tactlessness combining with the volatile mood in the city. She still shivered at how close they had all come to being lynched.
This occasion was different. Queen Cersei and King Joffrey were not along, for one thing, which automatically improved things. Neither the Queen Dowager nor the King was personally at all popular. Tywin had also absented himself; many people in Kings Landing remembered his sack of the city during the rebellion against the Mad King, and he had by no means been forgiven.
The royal family was represented by Prince Tommen, which suited both Tyrion and Asha. Little Tommen was holding up manfully, but Asha could tell that he was holding back tears by main force. When they dismounted at the dock where the Black Wind was waiting, ready for sea, he got off his horse and ran up to Tyrion, hugging him goodbye.
"G'bye, Uncle Tyrion! I'll miss you so much!" He whispered: "With you around, Joffrey isn't so mean to me!"
"Goodbye, nephew," Tyrion said gently. "This isn't for ever, you know. Your Aunt Asha and I will be back in Kings Landing one day." That didn't seem to console the little fellow, whose eyes were swimming with tears. Before Asha could react, he was hugging her around the waist with surprising strength.
"I wish you wouldn't go, Aunt Asha," he whimpered softly. Asha looked around, unsure about how to deal with this. Much to her surprise, she saw a lot of sympathy in people's eyes; many women were dabbing away tears. Tommen was an appealing little fellow, unlike his utterly appalling big brother. "Sansa says that you're the only hope she has!"
Asha gently disengaged herself from the prince, squatting down so that they were eye-to-eye. "Look, Tommen, your Uncle Tyrion and I will be back. We just want to go off by ourselves. I know it's no fun being told that you'll understand when you're older, but sometimes, that's all we adults can say." Asha had bitter memories of her own childhood, and when she was with Tommen, she tried to treat him with the respect she'd give an adult. If for no other reason, he was currently Heir Presumptive, and would be until Joffrey managed to find some woman insane enough to share his bed and bear his children. If the next King had good memories of his "Aunt Asha," that would come in handy. It wasn't because he was an appealing little fellow with the biggest green eyes she'd ever seen. No, it wasn't…She stepped firmly on the vision of herself a few years down the line, with a little cousin or two for Tommen, and turned to go.
As she and Tyrion turned to go up the gangplank and board the Black Wind, a shout went up: "Long live the Iron Islanders! Long live the Halfman!" That produced loud cheering, and people threw flowers at them. Asha shook her head in wonder at the contrast with the last time they'd done this. Guess feeding people and saving their city pays off, she thought. Who'd have thunk it?
To the sound of the crowd's cheers, the Black Wind cast off, and the crew bent to their oars. They wouldn't hoist the sail until they were a little ways out into the harbor; they could warp out of the anchorage under sail, but it would be tricky at best with the wind where it was. Far better, in Asha's considered opinion, to "wake the white-ash breeze," as her countrymen would say, and use their oars. The crew chanted an Iron Islands chant as they worked, and Asha smiled to see that some of them were having a bit of a rough time of it. Their faces were visibly red, and sweat was starting, even though it was a cool day and cooler still out on the water.
They've been living soft in Kings Landing, she thought. A little rowing will be good for them. By the time we hit Sunspear, they'll be back in the peak of fighting trim.
Once they had the sail up, the crew thankfully pulled the oars in and took a breather. Jinjur, at the helm, steered the Black Wind straight and true, avoiding known hazards like rocks and reefs, and the sail pulled the ship along easily. Above them, the black flag with its gold kraken fluttered in the breeze.
At the prow of the ship, Tyrion stood, steadying himself with one hand on the stem while staring straight ahead. Asha walked up beside him. "A copper for your thoughts, my love?" she asked.
Tyrion turned, a troubled look on his face. "Asha, you know I'm looking forward to every bit of this voyage, but I can't help thinking that with us gone, poor little Sansa's going to be in for a rough time of it. My dear nephew hasn't forgotten how we humiliated him after the Whip Incident, and I wouldn't put it past him to take whatever revenges his twisted little mind can come up with."
If people's bodies reflected their souls, my love, you would be straighter, taller and stronger than my good-brother whom I have not yet met, thought Asha, while Joffrey would be so twisted, stunted and ugly that he'd have been drowned at birth! Out loud, she said: "I know. I did have a talk with your father about that."
She had asked for a private audience with the Hand, and once they were alone, or at least as alone as anybody could be in the Red Keep, she had explained exactly what Joffrey had been doing, both incidents she had witnessed directly, and others that she had only heard about second-hand. In cases she had not been personally a witness to, she had told her good-father who had told her, and given him all the facts at her command.
The more she had told him, the angrier Tywin Lannister had become. He didn't show it much, but Asha had learned to read him fairly well in their short acquaintance. When she'd finally indicated that she'd told him everything, he had got up, striding up and down the room and striking his fist into his open hand. Finally, he had growled: "I didn't do all I have done to put Aerys back on the throne!"
When she told Tyrion about that, his eyes went wide. "I think that my dear, dear nephew is about to get his comeuppance, as we say 'round Lannisport. My father is very ingenious in these matters. Personally, I'd almost rather fall into the hands of the Boltons at their nastiest than have him seriously angry with me!" He smiled an evil smile. "I just wish I could be around when my darling nephew gets what's coming to him!"
"I don't think he's the only one at fault, love. That horrid mother of his should bear a lot of the blame." Asha raised a questioning eyebrow. "It felt good to finally give her the pounding she's had coming since we met…but then I felt awful about it. She looked at me like she'd been betrayed."
Tyrion looked troubled. "You're right about a lot of the responsibility being rightfully Cersei's. However, King Robert also deserves a large chunk of the blame. In some ways, Joffrey's always struck me as a boy who wanted nothing so much as a father, and all he ever got from King Robert was a cold shoulder, or, occasionally, punishment. If Robert had taken him hunting, or taken more of an interest in him, he might have been a very different boy. Or, maybe, if he'd been fostered out…" Tyrion looked thoughtful.
"Or even if he'd just had some adult male who took an interest in him. As it was, most of the time he had no restraints, from what I heard. I suppose he could have been worse…but I have a hard time forgiving him for what he did to Sansa." Asha felt a frisson of rage. Sansa Stark struck her as a particularly vulnerable person, and tormenting her was about as sporting, in her view, as beating up a cripple.
By that time, the Black Wind was scudding along at a good pace, heeling under the wind. Asha felt a great sense of satisfaction. Here she was, doing the thing she loved to do most…at least, the thing she loved to do most with her clothes on…with the man she loved! She couldn't have been happier if she had tried. She sucked in deep breaths of the salty air. A Greyjoy, an ironwoman, belonged at sea!
"Sails ho! Sails off the port bow!" came the call from the crow's-nest. Asha peered ahead. Sure enough, those were sails. They came closer and closer, and Asha could feel the crew's tension. While a longship could sail rings around most other ships, the wind would make it difficult to escape if the others were hostile.
"I can see their colors! They're flying Greyjoy colors!" Asha looked very closely. She smiled at the sight; they had crossed the path of one of her people's convoys of food ships, bringing food to victual Kings Landing!
"A point to port, if you please, Jinjur!" The ship turned to port, and soon the ironborn ships were hull-up, their hulls visible over the tossing waters. Signal flags flew up from the lead ship.
"They're asking who we are, ma'am."
"Make the signal for the Black Wind." Asha stood in the prow, tall and proud, her arm around her husband's shoulders, as the flags were prepared and hoisted to fly from the mast.
"They're signalling back, ma'am. 'Congratulations on your wedding, and have a wonderful honeymoon!" Asha smiled. Her people had come up with the system of flag signals long ago, and it had remained one of their specialties ever since. Communications between ships at sea were always difficult, but the flags did make it easier.
"Make a signal. 'Thanks for the advice. Already planning to comply." Quite a few of the signals were in a code, which allowed complicated messages to be sent with just a few predetermined flags. That did make it a good idea to know just how to phrase things for maximum efficiency, but Asha was an old hand with the flag code.
As the Greyjoy ships passed them, Asha commanded: "One last signal. 'Have fun in Kings Landing!'" When those flags went up, she could see the crews of the ironborn food convoy ships cheering her. She smiled, and her smile stayed on her lips until the ships were far to the stern, hull-down over the horizon.
Tyrion looked at her quizzically. "Asha…do you think I could learn that code? It looks useful!"
Asha considered it. "I don't know why not. Nobody else uses it…I don't know why." She called for the code book, and she and Tyrion sat down side by side on the quarter deck, as she began paging through, running Tyrion through the basics of the language of the flags.