291 AC - Lannisport
It has been around two years Since the Greyjor rebellion and little under a year since the tourney of Lannisport. It is now time for the ward of the Lannisters Asha Greyjoy to wed Tyrion.
The grand hall of Casterly Rock was adorned with banners and garlands, a display of opulence and power befitting the wedding of Tyrion Lannister and Asha Greyjoy. The guests, a mix of Lannisters, Greyjoys, and other noble houses, filled the hall with a sense of anticipation and curiosity. The union was as much a political alliance as it was a personal bond, a joining of the powerful Lannisters and the wild, rebellious Greyjoys.
Asha Greyjoy stood at the entrance, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Gone was the skinny girl with knob knees and a face full of pimples; now, she was a lean, long-legged woman with dark eyes and black hair cut long. Her face was thin, with a big, sharp nose and wind-chafed skin, a testament to her ironborn heritage. On her neck was a faded pink scar, a reminder of her past battles. Despite her refined Lannister dress, there was a boldness to her walk, part saunter, part sway, that spoke of her unyielding spirit.
Beside her, Tyrion Lannister looked up at his bride. The dwarf's mismatched eyes of green and black sparkled with a mix of apprehension and excitement. His stunted legs and jutting forehead were a stark contrast to the elegance of his surroundings, but his sharp wit and intelligence shone through. Tyrion's thin hair was fair and flaxen, almost appearing white under the candlelight. His unique stare had made many uncomfortable, but tonight, he felt a rare sense of acceptance.
As the ceremony began, the high septon intoned the ancient words of the vows, binding Asha and Tyrion in a union that was both symbolic and strategic. Tyrion, ever the master of words, spoke his vows with a sincerity that touched even the most cynical hearts. Asha, defiant and bold, met his gaze with unwavering determination as she recited her own vows.
In the front row, Tywin Lannister watched with a steely expression. The patriarch of House Lannister was a formidable presence, his disdain for his youngest son thinly veiled. Beside him, Jaime Lannister, the young lion, stood with his wife Lysa Tully and their children. Jaime's golden hair and confident demeanor contrasted sharply with Tyrion's physical appearance, but the bond between the brothers was evident.
Further down the aisle, Cersei Lannister sat with her husband Elbert Arryn and their children, Robin and Sharra. Cersei's eyes glinted with a mix of resentment and calculation as she observed the proceedings. Her hatred for Tyrion was well-known, fueled by a prophecy that foretold her death at the hands of a "little brother." Despite the festive occasion, her mind was a whirl of dark thoughts. As Well as thoughts of Jammie.
The feast that followed was a grand affair, with tables laden with the finest dishes from across the realm. Minstrels played lively tunes, and the clinking of goblets and laughter filled the hall. Tyrion, ever the entertainer, regaled the guests with tales and quips, his sharp tongue earning laughter and applause.
Asha, though raised among the Lannisters for the past years, retained her ironborn spirit. She engaged in conversation with ease, her sharp wit and bold demeanor captivating those around her. Despite the grandeur, she remained true to herself, a wild and headstrong woman in a world that sought to tame her.
Amidst the celebrations, Theon Greyjoy, Asha's younger brother, sat with a mix of pride and bitterness. He had been taken as a ward of House Stark, and his loyalties were often torn between his ironborn heritage and his life in the North. Accompanied by Brandon Stark, Theon felt the weight of his family's expectations and the conflicting loyalties that plagued him.
The grand feast at Casterly Rock celebrating the wedding of Tyrion Lannister and Asha Greyjoy had reached its peak. The hall was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. Amidst the revelry, two men found a moment of quiet conversation: Jaime Lannister, the young lion, and Elbert Arryn, the knight of the Vale.
Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, stood by a table laden with rich foods and fine wines. His golden hair shone in the candlelight, and his emerald green eyes surveyed the room with a mixture of boredom and amusement. Despite his notorious reputation, Jaime carried himself with an effortless grace and confidence that few could match.
Elbert Arryn, husband to Cersei Lannister, approached with a smile. His blonde hair and blue eyes marked him as a true Arryn, and his tall, strong frame moved with the ease of a seasoned knight. Handsome and gallant, Elbert was considered one of the best swordsmen in the Vale.
"Jaime," Elbert greeted, his voice warm but firm. "It's good to see you again. The wedding is quite the spectacle."
Jaime returned the smile, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Elbert, it's been too long. I'm glad you and Cersei could make the journey from the Eyrie. How have things been in the Vale?"
Elbert's expression darkened slightly. "Peaceful, for the most part. But there's always something to contend with. Hunting has been good, though. The woods around the Eyrie are teeming with game."
Jaime chuckled. "You and your hunting. I suppose it gives you a chance to work off that temper of yours."
Elbert's eyes flashed, but he quickly regained his composure. "Perhaps. But there's more to it than that. The Vale is my home, and I take pride in protecting it."
Jaime nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I can respect that. Every man should take pride in his home. But tell me, how is Cersei? She insisted on coming, and I suspect it wasn't just to see our brother wed."
Elbert's smile returned, albeit with a hint of weariness. "Cersei is... as determined as ever. She wanted to be here for family, to show support. But I think she also needed a change of scenery. The Eyrie can feel isolating at times."
Jaime took a sip of wine, his eyes thoughtful. "I know the feeling. Casterly Rock can be a gilded cage, no matter how grand it is. Sometimes I envy you, Elbert. The Vale seems more... grounded."
Elbert raised an eyebrow. "Grounded, perhaps. But it comes with its own challenges. And sometimes, I envy you, Jaime. Your freedom, your prowess. You live by your own rules."
Jaime's smile turned wry. "Freedom is a double-edged sword, my friend. It can cut you just as easily as it can liberate you. But enough about me. How are things between you and Cersei?"
Elbert's expression softened as he thought of his wife. "Cersei is a force of nature. Fiercely protective of our children, and always striving to ensure their future. She can be... difficult, but I wouldn't have her any other way."
Jaime's gaze grew distant for a moment. "She always was the strong one. Even when we were children, she knew what she wanted and wouldn't let anything stand in her way."
Elbert's eyes met Jaime's, a mixture of curiosity and concern. "And what about you, Jaime? What do you want for the future?"
Jaime's expression hardened slightly, his gaze turning inward. "I want to protect those I care about. To ensure that our family remains strong. Beyond that... who knows? The future is uncertain, but we face it one day at a time."
Elbert nodded, his own thoughts turning to the responsibilities and uncertainties that lay ahead. "Indeed. We can only do our best, Jaime. For our families, and for ourselves."
The two men stood in silence for a moment, the bond of shared experience and family ties strengthening their connection. Despite their differences, there was a mutual respect and understanding between them.
Jaime raised his goblet in a toast. "To family, Elbert. And to the future."
Elbert clinked his goblet against Jaime's, a determined smile on his face. "To family, and to the future."
As the feast continued, Jaime and Elbert returned to the revelry, their conversation a reminder of the ties that bound them. The night was filled with laughter and celebration, but beneath the surface, the weight of responsibility and the hope for a better future lingered in their hearts.
Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell, watched the proceedings with a brooding intensity. His wife, Catelyn, beside him, shared his unease. The recent betrothal of their nephew Jon Stark to Baela Targaryen had sown discord within the Stark family, and the sight of the Lannisters' unity only deepened Brandon's resentment.
Eddard Stark and Ashara Dayne, having been pivotal in the arrangement, faced the subtle but palpable tension from Brandon and Catelyn. The house of the wolf, once unified, now stood divided between the Starks of Winterfell and the Starks of the Wolf's Den.
The grand feast at Casterly Rock was in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, and the tables groaned under the weight of lavish dishes. Yet, amidst the revelry, subtle politics and personal ambitions were at play, hidden behind the veneer of celebration. Brandon Stark, the heir to Winterfell, sat at a table with his wife, Catelyn Tully. Despite the festive atmosphere, Brandon's mind was focused on a more pressing matter.
Brandon's gray eyes scanned the hall, finally landing on Tywin Lannister. The patriarch of House Lannister was a formidable figure, his presence commanding respect and fear. Beside him sat Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, and his wife, Lysa Tully, Catelyn's sister. Their children, including the seven-year-old Joanna Lannister, played nearby, unaware of the political machinations unfolding around them.
Catelyn, sensing her husband's tension, leaned in. "Brandon, what are you planning?"
Brandon's jaw tightened. "A move to secure our house's future, Cat. Tywin and I have had discussions. I believe it's time to make our intentions clear."
He stood and crossed the room, his tall, imposing figure cutting through the crowd. Tywin's piercing gaze met his as he approached. The two men exchanged nods, and Tywin gestured for Brandon to sit beside him.
"Lord Tywin," Brandon began, his voice low but firm, "I have a proposal that I believe will benefit both our houses."
Tywin's eyes narrowed slightly. "Speak your mind, Lord Brandon."
Brandon took a deep breath. "I propose a betrothal between my son, Robb Stark, and your granddaughter, Joanna Lannister. Our houses have been allies in the past, and I believe such a union would strengthen our ties and secure a prosperous future for both families."
Tywin regarded him thoughtfully. "An interesting proposal. What brings you to this decision, Stark?"
Brandon's eyes flicked briefly to where Eddard and Ashara sat, speaking quietly. "To ensure the strength and unity of my house. Recent events have made it clear that alliances are more crucial than ever."
Tywin was silent for a moment, weighing the proposal. "Your son, Robb, is eight years old, is he not?"
Brandon nodded. "And your granddaughter Joanna is seven. They are close in age, and this match would bind our houses together in a powerful alliance."
Jaime, who had been listening quietly, interjected. "A strong match, Father. Robb Stark is the heir to Winterfell, and Joanna would be well-matched in both stature and lineage."
Lysa, seated beside Jaime, looked thoughtful. "Catelyn and I have discussed the future of our children. This union would indeed be beneficial."
Tywin's expression remained inscrutable, but his mind was clearly working through the implications. After a long pause, he nodded. "Very well, Brandon Stark. I accept your proposal. Let it be known that Robb Stark will be betrothed to Joanna Lannister."
The announcement was made before the gathered nobility. The room buzzed with murmurs and whispers as the new betrothal was declared. Brandon felt a surge of triumph, but it was tempered by the simmering resentment he felt towards his younger brother, Eddard.
As he returned to his seat, Catelyn's eyes were bright with curiosity. "What happened?"
Brandon leaned in, his voice a mix of pride and bitterness. "Tywin accepted. Robb will marry Joanna Lannister. It's a good match, Cat. But I can't shake the feeling that this was all driven by Ned's alliance with the Targaryens."
Catelyn's expression hardened. "Ned and Ashara have always had a way of making things work in their favor. But we must focus on our own future, Brandon. This match will strengthen our position."
Despite the apparent success of the arrangement, the House of Stark was not at peace. The betrothal of Jon Stark to Baela Targaryen had driven a wedge between the brothers. Brandon's resentment towards Eddard festered, and Catelyn's dislike for Jon grew deeper. The once united House of Stark now faced internal divisions that threatened to undermine their strength.
As the night wore on, Brandon brooded over his ale, the weight of his decisions pressing down on him. The alliance with the Lannisters was a victory, but it came at a personal cost. His relationship with Eddard was strained, and the future of their house was uncertain.
The grand feast celebrating the union of Tyrion Lannister and Asha Greyjoy had reached its crescendo. The halls of Casterly Rock were filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of goblets. Yet, amidst the revelry, two sisters found a moment of quiet respite in a secluded corner of the castle. The recent announcement of the betrothal between Robb Stark and Joanna Lannister weighed heavily on their minds.
Lysa Tully, the wife of Jaime Lannister, stood by the large, arched window overlooking the sea. Her pale blue eyes, watery and delicate, reflected the moonlight. Her auburn hair, thick and luxurious, cascaded down to her waist, a striking contrast against her cream-colored gown adorned with sapphires and moonstones. Lysa's petite frame and small, petulant mouth gave her a fragile, almost ethereal appearance.
Catelyn Stark, her elder sister, approached with a gentle smile. Her own auburn hair, long and rich, framed a face of fair skin and high cheekbones. Catelyn's blue eyes, deeper and more intense than Lysa's, held a wisdom and strength that had been honed by years of duty and motherhood. She wore a gown of Tully red and blue, her attire a testament to her pride in her house and her steadfast adherence to its words: "Family, Duty, Honor."
"Lysa," Catelyn said softly, her voice warm and inviting, "it's been too long since we've had a chance to talk."
Lysa turned, her lips curving into a shy smile. "Cat, it feels like a lifetime. So much has changed."
The sisters moved to a quieter alcove, away from the prying eyes and ears of the feast. Catelyn reached out, taking Lysa's hands in her own. "How are you, truly?"
Lysa sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. "It's... complicated, Cat. Being here, married to Jaime, living among the Lannisters—it's not what I expected."
Catelyn nodded, her expression understanding. "I can only imagine. Jaime is... a complicated man. But you seem to care for him deeply."
Lysa's eyes softened, a hint of warmth coloring her cheeks. "I do. He has his flaws, but he can be kind and protective. And our children—they mean everything to me."
Catelyn's smile was genuine. "I've seen how fiercely you protect them. It's a trait we share, I think. Our children are our world."
Lysa's gaze grew distant, her thoughts drifting back to the recent announcement. "Do you think this betrothal is wise, Cat? Robb and Joanna are so young."
Catelyn's expression grew more serious. "I understand your concerns, Lysa. But in these times, alliances are crucial. Brandon believes this match will strengthen our family's position, especially given the tensions with the Targaryens."
Lysa nodded slowly, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "I see. But I can't help but worry. Joanna is just a child, and Robb... he's so much like Brandon. Brave and headstrong."
Catelyn's lips curved into a gentle smile. "They will grow, Lysa. And they will have our guidance. We must trust in the future and in our family's strength."
As they spoke, the conversation shifted to the future. Catelyn's expression grew more serious. "Lysa, there's something I need to discuss with you. It's about Robb and Joanna."
Lysa's brow furrowed. "What about them?"
"Brandon has proposed a betrothal between Robb and Joanna," Catelyn explained. "It would strengthen the ties between our houses."
Lysa's eyes widened in surprise. "A betrothal? So soon? They are still children."
Catelyn nodded. "I know. But in these times, alliances are crucial. Brandon is determined to ensure our family's future, even if it means making difficult decisions."
Lysa's expression softened. "I understand. Jaime and I will support the decision, if it comes to that. Family must come first."
Catelyn reached out, placing a hand on Lysa's arm. "Thank you, Lysa. It's good to know we have your support. We must stand together, now more than ever."
Lysa nodded, her watery blue eyes meeting Catelyn's deeper ones. "We will, Cat. Despite everything, we are still Tullys. And Tullys always stand together."
Catelyn smiled, a sense of warmth and solidarity filling her heart. "Yes, we do."
The sisters sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their shared history and the uncertain future settling around them. Despite the differences in their lives, the bond between them remained strong, a testament to their shared blood and the love they had for each other.
"Lysa," Catelyn said softly, breaking the silence, "promise me you'll take care of yourself. And if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."
Lysa's smile was genuine, her eyes reflecting the love and trust she had in her sister. "I promise, Cat. And the same goes for you. We may be far apart, but we will always be sisters."
As the night wore on, Asha and Tyrion found a moment of solitude in the gardens of Casterly Rock. The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft glow, and the scent of blooming flowers filled the air.
Tyrion looked up at his new bride, his mismatched eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Asha, I know this union was not your choice, but I promise you, I will do my best to make it a partnership of equals."
Asha smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Tyrion, I have never been one to bow to fate. We are both outcasts in our own ways, and perhaps that is what will make us stronger together."
Tyrion chuckled, his heart lightened by her words. "To outcasts and to new beginnings," he said, raising his goblet in a toast.
Asha clinked her goblet against his. "To new beginnings," she echoed, her smile genuine.
As the guests began to depart, the future of House Lannister and House Greyjoy seemed intertwined in ways none could have foreseen. The marriage of Tyrion and Asha was a symbol of unity, a blend of strength and intelligence, defiance and wit.
The grand feast continued in full swing, the echoes of laughter and music filling the vast halls of Casterly Rock. Amidst the revelry, a quiet corner of the garden provided a stark contrast to the boisterous celebration inside. Here, under the pale moonlight and surrounded by the soft rustle of leaves, Theon Greyjoy and his sister Asha found a moment of solitude to speak.
Asha Greyjoy leaned against the stone balustrade, her sharp eyes scanning the distant horizon. Her long, dark hair framed her wind-chafed face, and the faded pink scar on her neck was a stark reminder of her ironborn heritage. Despite the fine Lannister dress she wore, she still possessed the boldness and wild spirit that defined her.
Theon approached quietly, his steps cautious. The moonlight highlighted his lean frame and the conflicted expression on his face. As the ward of Brandon Stark, Theon often felt torn between his loyalty to the Starks and his longing for the Iron Islands. His gray eyes reflected a mix of sorrow and hope as he drew near his sister.
"Asha," Theon began, his voice soft yet filled with an undercurrent of emotion.
Asha turned, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her brother. "Theon," she replied, a genuine smile crossing her lips. "It's good to see you. Truly."
They stood in silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them. Finally, Asha broke the silence.
"How have you been, Theon? It's been too long since we've had a chance to speak freely."
Theon sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. "It has. Being a ward in Winterfell... it's not easy. Brandon Stark is a stern man, and I often feel like an outsider, even after all these years."
Asha nodded, understanding his plight. "You've always been caught between two worlds, haven't you? The ironborn blood in your veins and the life you've been forced to live among the wolves."
Theon's eyes met hers, a flicker of defiance in his expression. "I try to be strong, to honor our family. But it's hard, Asha. I miss the sea, the salt in the air, the freedom of our home."
Asha's gaze softened, her fierce demeanor tempered by a rare moment of vulnerability. "I miss it too, Theon. Every day. The Iron Islands are in our blood, and no matter how far we are from them, they call to us."
Theon looked away, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever truly belong anywhere. Brandon and Catelyn are kind, but there's always this... distance. They see me as a reminder of our past conflicts, a symbol of their victory over our people."
Asha stepped closer, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You belong with your family, Theon. With me. We've both had to adapt to survive, but that doesn't mean we've lost who we are. The ironborn spirit is strong within us, no matter where we are."
Theon's eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I worry about you, Asha. This marriage to Tyrion Lannister... do you think you'll be happy?"
Asha's smile was tinged with sadness. "Happiness is a rare commodity for people like us, Theon. But Tyrion... he's different. He's sharp, witty, and understands what it's like to be an outsider. Maybe we can find some semblance of peace together."
They stood in silence again, each lost in their thoughts. Theon's mind drifted to their childhood, the carefree days spent on the rocky shores of Pyke, the lessons their father, Balon Greyjoy, had instilled in them.
"Do you ever think about Father?" Theon asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Asha nodded, her expression contemplative. "I do. Often. He was a hard man, driven by pride and a desire to restore the old ways. But he was our father, and despite everything, he loved us in his own way."
Theon's jaw tightened. "Sometimes I wonder if he'd be proud of us. Proud of the choices we've made."
Asha's eyes met his, fierce and determined. "He would be. We've survived, Theon. We've adapted and thrived in a world that tried to break us. That is something to be proud of."
As the night wore on, their conversation shifted from sorrowful reflections to a cautious hope for the future. Asha's resilience and Theon's determination to find his place in the world gave them both a sense of purpose.
"Asha," Theon said, his voice filled with resolve, "one day, I will return to the Iron Islands. We will rebuild our home, reclaim our heritage."
Asha's smile was genuine, her eyes shining with the same hope. "And I'll be there with you, Theon. We will face whatever comes together, as brother and sister, as ironborn."
They shared a moment of silence, the bond between them strengthened by their shared struggles and dreams. The garden, with its gentle rustling of leaves and soft moonlight, seemed to offer a sanctuary from the complexities of their lives.
As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Theon and Asha knew it was time to return to the feast. They embraced, a rare display of affection that spoke volumes of their connection.
"Stay strong, Theon," Asha whispered. "And never forget where you come from."
Theon nodded, his heart heavy yet hopeful. "You too, Asha. We'll find our way back home. I promise."