I've been away for a while, I had a little trip and then I got ill, but I'm back on my feet now!
The Wall
Shireen
When our caravan arrived at Castle Black, I could see Arya jumping up and down with joy, barely able to contain herself to see her brother.
When my lord father and the Lord Commander came to greet us, Arya broke all decorum and ran into her brother's arms.
"Jon!" She cried.
Jon Snow took only two steps forward before he was run over by Arya. He hugged her tightly and stayed there as Arya cried tears of joy.
"You've grown, I think Your Grace has treated you well, I can even see flesh on your little bones." Jon joked before starting to pinch his sister.
"In my opinion, the evidence is more than enough, isn't it, my lords?" My father said sternly and two old men nodded.
"Dad, I missed you." I said softly as I hugged him. The hug was the same as always, a little stiff, but it had gotten better lately. "Where's Orryn?".
"Calm down Shireen, remember your manners." My mother scolded me when I arrived in front of my father. "My lord, I see you're in good health."
"Indeed..." Father nodded. "Let's go inside, there's a lot to talk about and it's getting colder."
"Come on Jon! This is my friend Shireen... well, Princess Shireen!" She said, pulling her brother towards me.
Jon and Arya looked alike, with dark brown curls and gray eyes. Jon was also tall, not much shorter than Orryn, and... handsome.
The thought made my cheeks warm and I shook my head. "H-hello Lord Commander Snow, it's a pleasure to meet you."
"It is my pleasure, Princess Shireen." Jon replied with a smile. "Now it's time to go inside, you don't want to freeze your nose off in all this snow."
We were led to the King's Tower, which was pleasantly warm, my mother and father already on their way to meet the envoy from the Iron Bank.
Jon showed us to our room, hugged Arya and promised to come back to see her as soon as possible.
Arya didn't want to wait, she wanted to explore, she wanted to see her brother, she wanted to see everything there was to see.
"Come on, it'll be quick and no one will notice we're gone. Ciri is busy leading the servants." She said, pulling at my hand.
"The guards will find out, and Orryn doesn't seem to be here to cover for us. Remember how many punishments we got back at Eastwatch-by-the-Sea." I replied seriously and Arya just snorted.
She pulled me closer and we slipped out of the room. We were barely walking down the corridor when we bumped into a woman dressed in white.
She was tall, blonde, and beautiful. Her demeanor was royal, much more royal than my mother's or even mine.
She looked at us with her icy blue eyes for a while before giving a small smile. "I bet those two girls are the famous troublemakers, Princess Shireen and Arya Stark."
"And who are you?" Arya asked shyly.
"I'm Val, one of the representatives of the freefolk here. Your brothers say many good things about you two". She replied with a smile.
"Can you tell me where Orryn is?" I asked, still a bit shy. "I haven't seen him since I arrived."
"The prince has gone to confront the Ironborn in the south. He sent us a rather... problematic letter a few days ago, but all is well with him."
"By the gods..." I said, worried about my brother.
"And why would someone from the 'FreeFolk' be here, in the King's Tower?" Arya asked in confusion, but emphasizing her dislike of the wildlings.
"I am the storyteller of my people, I can carry their words as well as King Mance Ryder. We negotiate our passage."
"Do you know many stories?" I asked with great excitement. "I've read many books about the North since we left Dragonstone, but my favorite stories are the ones Arya tells! There is nothing better than a story told!".
"Your brother told me we'd get along well, he said we'd have lots of stories to share." Val smiled again.
"I see you're already planning to fill the princess's ears with your 'stories', aren't you, Val?" Lady Melissandre's melodious voice came like a ghost from behind us.
"I don't try to indoctrinate them into anything, I just tell them my stories. Whether the person is able to understand the lessons in them is another matter." Val shrugged.
"You don't indoctrinate, but you are the most vocal defender of your religion of the old gods. You are the one who most insists on not accepting the Lord of Light among your people." Lady Melissandre replied with a deceptively beautiful smile.
Arya frowned, and before I could silence her, she spoke. "The Old Gods are from the North. They live here, in every stone, in every river, in every forest. It's impossible to get them out of here, no matter who tries, that's what my father always said." Val smiled at that and Lady Melissandre grimaced, she was ready to scold Arya when I remembered a conversation I'd had with Orryn.
"Do you want to convert the wild... the freefolk, Lady Melissandre?" I asked, and whatever the red woman's answer to Arya was, it seemed to be swallowed.
"Yes, Princess, your father himself agrees, as does your brother."
"I bet she'll want to burn the Hearth Trees, just like he did the sept at Dragonstone." Arya grumbled, drawing another hard stare from Melissandre.
"No... it can't be like that, Lady Melisandre." I said, a little uncertain. "Orryn believes in R'hllor, but he is also an anointed knight of the Seven. He swore an oath, and my brother doesn't break oaths."
"That can be remedied, Princess, and..."
"My father and Orryn won't need any more wars after this. People should really follow the Red God, they should see his power. Boys should dream of becoming knights of the Lord of Light... people should sing songs in the temples."
My words came out in a whirlwind, and when I finished, I was a little embarrassed. "I sing songs..." Lady Melissandre said with a frown.
"But only in your strange language, no one understands what you say." Arya muttered and I nodded.
"Orryn always told me that we shouldn't force our god on others. But we can charm them!" I said excitedly. "We can have songs! And knights!"
"And Woman knights too!" Arya said excitedly. "And we can pray to the trees like we do, for without their wood there is no fire!
"The King of the Seven Kingdoms, he is the King of the Andals, the First Men and the Roinars. He protects the kingdom and the faith that is the law of Jaehaerys the Conciliator. Whatever that faith may be".
"That... that's an interesting thought... a reform to attract new believers... new vows and an order similar to the Red Hand, only broader...". Lady Melissandre said thoughtfully. "That could work, a branch of the religion only in Westeros..."
Saying goodbye quickly, almost possessed, Lady Melissandre started to leave, but stopped after a few steps. "I would like to talk to you more about your ideas for the faith, Princess." She said simply and started walking again.
"That woman is as crazy as a sack of cats." Arya muttered and there was a hiss behind us.
Arya jumped and when she turned around she saw Ciri. Her eyes were so narrowed they were almost slits. Erryn on her lap also looked curious and sucked on her small hand.
"And you must be crazy too, Arya, running away every chance you get. And worse, knowing you'll be punished."
"I just wanted to explore!" She whined.
"Into the bedroom, now!" Ciri said in a calm tone, but we knew she was one step away from picking up the correction stick, as she called it.
Remembering my manners, I bowed to Val. "I'd appreciate your company tonight, Val, if you'd like."
"Yes, Princess, I have time before I'm summoned by Your Grace." The wildling replied me
Ciri and Val stared at each other for a while, Val's eyes going to Erryn and then back to Ciri. Ciri's eyes went to Val and the dagger at his belt.
"Is this your son?"
"Yes, his name is Erryn." Ciri replied simply.
Grimacing, Val shook her head. "It's bad luck to name a child so early."
"He's strong, I'm sure he can handle a little bad luck." Ciri said impassively.
"Strong like his father, I suppose." He said with a smile that Ciri returned.
"Just like his mother, who'll punch you in the face if you say the wrong thing."
Val looked at Ciri again and nodded before smiling. "I'd love to swap stories with you too..."
"Cirilla."
"Will you join us tonight?"
"Of course." Ciri replied and followed us, we had stories to tell.
Somewhere near to Sea Dragon Point
"The scouts have returned... 15 anchored Longships, one in poor condition." A clan leader reported and Ser Rolland nodded.
"The Prince has ordered us to take the ships intact... Ironborn tend to burn their ships when they lose a battle." Artos Flint commented, he was Ser Rolland's right hand in this mission.
"If we approach, it must be quickly. Take the infantry down the hill, they'll think we're outnumbered, and during a false retreat we'll lead them away from their ships, right to our cavalry." Ser Rolland said, pointing to the bay.
They were far away in the tree line and even then it was risky to be seen at this time of day.
"We won't have a good shooting line for the archers, but they will..." Lord Harclay said rather quietly.
"If we return fire, the chances of a fire starting are high. If we don't return fire, we'll be fired upon throughout the battle and the men may try to escape with the ships." Artos added. "What you will do Ser Rolland?"
Frowning, the warrior's loyal follower considered what to do.
"Separate the fastest from the men, we'll attack head on during the first rays of sunlight."
"Attack head-on? Just charge down the slope?" Lord Harclay said incredulously.
"Yes, I will command the cavalry myself. The fastest men will be behind us, running to massacre the mess my horses will make, so we'll have time for the rest of the infantry to advance and finish the job."
"If your infantry is late, or your cavalry is stopped before the time..." Artos pointed out.
"The warrior will be with me, Artos, and if not, I will take as many of them to the seven hells as I can. Just know that the mission given by our Prince remains the same with or without me...". Ser Rolland said seriously.
That night, the men did not sleep, ate only dry food, and did not light a fire, for that would attract the attention of the invaders.
The sky was dark, a purple canvas that tended to play tricks on tired men on guard. In these conditions, a band of cavalry marched down the slope, trampling everything in their path, causing chaos and devastation.
Ser Rolland smiled as his sword struck the first opponent, cracking his skull, finally doing the warrior's work again.
Deepwood Motte Gates
"Again!" There was a shout and the men roared as they swung the battering ram.
The roof that protected them was precarious, but the Ironborn who occupied the Deepwood Motte didn't seem to have any hot oil to spill, only arrows that flew and stuck in the planks.
With a bang, the gate gave way, and a euphoric cry ran through the ranks of the attackers. Prince Orryn led the attack from the northern gates with all his forces. The Deepwood was an ancient but fragile castle, its walls made of wooden trunks supported by earthen ramparts on the inside.
Its only significant "defense" was natural, in the form of three concentric hills. There was only one internal path to reach the next hill and a new palisade to defend it. The lord's hall was at the top of the last hill, and that's where they had to go.
Thudding in the mud, Orryn's horse reared up but was quickly brought under control, he looked up the hill at the banner of the golden Kraken, there was a Greyjoy of Pike to be captured.
"Forward, men! Line up and advance! Shields up!" He shouted at the top of his voice, and the men obeyed. "Archers right behind, return arrows from the top of the next palisade! Don't let them breathe!".
"We can't bring the battering ram up the hill, it'll take too long!". Lord Hugo Wull shouted, ready to enter the battle.
"Then you can use the ladders we have prepared, if everything goes according to plan, we won't have much resistance." Orryn replied.
The big man nodded and ran to join the battle, not daring to miss the chance to kill the Ironborn.
"Ser Justin, keep the order in my name and under my banner. I don't want Glover's halls ransacked or any unnecessary casualties."
"Yes, my prince." Ser Justin nodded gravely. "I know how your father deals with crimes in time of war."
Another one who wants to prove himself to me at all costs... he's hungry for rewards and doesn't want me to forget that I was once his squire. Orryn thought bitterly, he would certainly help and reward Ser Justin... just not as much as he wanted.
The attack continued, the second palisade was breached, and from the bodies that remained on the ground, Orryn saw many Ironborn for every one of his own. 'Those were the plugs, the disposable ones, as I thought. They don't even resist well'.
"Brienne, it's time." Orryn said to his faithful companion and left with a group of his men. His banner remained, still under the command of Ser Justin.
They went around the castle in search of the south gate, and there they found the leaders of the army on the run.
"Attack!" Orryn shouted, accelerating into a full gallop, his spear aimed to spear the first of the enemy riders in the back.
A commotion erupted, warriors rushing to defend their masters who were still trying to escape. Men in Greyjoy colors surrounded Orryn, but Brienne cut them off and they continued galloping.
"No prisoners!" Orryn ordered, and they sped up again, the Ironborn almost into the forest.
"I'll slow them down, ma'am." A delicate looking young man said to the woman accompanying him.
"Qarl, you know you're going to die, don't you?" The woman said in frustration. She had a certain regret in her voice, losing a warrior as good as Qarl was always bad.
"If I can buy enough time for my lady Asha to escape...". He said with his boyish smile.
Asha Greyjoy nodded, she had sent her trusted man and lover to his death without hesitation. 'This is the price of iron', she thought to herself, spurring her horse on again.
Qarl, the Maid, turned his horse with little mastery and faced his pursuers. The one with the stag's antlers, he's the leader.
On his way to Orryn, Qarl planned to kill him to create a distraction. With an impulse, he tried a thrust with the tip of his long sword, but Orryn easily parried it.
They never stopped their horses, and as they advanced, Qarl had the advantage. It wasn't that he was better at riding, but rather that the undergrowth was getting thicker, making it harder for Orryn to maneuver his larger horse.
As he tried to strike Orryn's head again, Qarl was surprised. Instead of continuing his honorable fight, the prince hung from the cell and struck the front leg of Qarl's skinny old stallion.
The Ironborn was thrown from his horse, and when he recovered, he was a bit dizzy. Orryn came face to face with Qarl, still on horseback, the fighting still going on around him. The group of Ironborn they had approached was nearly defeated.
Qarl raised his sword and waited for the attack, but it never came. He saw the horned knight raise his visor, his face crumpled by the padding of his helmet, his scar still visible.
"I'll give you a chance to surrender."
"I will not surrender to weaklings like you." Qarl spat.
Smiling, Orryn did the unthinkable and dismounted. "I will gladly finish you on foot."
Tauntingly, Qarl attacked. "You should have kept your horse, then you'd have stood a better chance. But it seems you're a fool, like every man from the Greenlands."
On dry land, far from a horse, Qarl's movements were swift and fierce. He was a skilled fighter, a fighter who had seen many battles, and Orryn was sure that if he had faced him before the attack on the capital, he would have lost.
'This man, he wouldn't beat Brienne, he wouldn't beat Garlan, and he won't beat me'. Parrying another quick blow from Qarl, Orryn realized the Ironborn was drawing him into a melee. He wants to use his axe and stop me with my long sword.
As their swords clashed, Qarl did just that, drawing his axe from his waist. He aimed it directly at Orryn's ribs, and the prince let it hit him there.
The armor protected him from the cut, but not from the bruise. Orryn was sure he had at least one cracked rib, but that didn't matter, not now.
Lassoing Qarl's arm with his own, Orryn used his greater strength to restrain him. He tried to use his other hand with the sword to cut Qarl's throat, but the other young man struggled until Orryn dropped the sword.
With his hand now free, the prince grabbed Qarl's thin neck and began to squeeze it, his other arm still holding him in place. They walked awkwardly until the Ironborn slammed his back against a tree.
Orryn knew he could choke the other young man, he knew he was stronger... 'But I won't gain anything by killing him like this, he might tell me important things'.
Pushing Qarl's head back as far as he could, Orryn grinned from behind his helmet and threw a headbutt. Qarl's head hit Orryn's and the tree behind it.
He collapsed, rolling in pain from his broken nose, but still awake.
"Sleep well." Orryn sneered before kicking Qarl's head, which was finally out.
Turning, he saw the last of the enemy resistance dying.
"Orryn, are you hurt?" Brienne said worriedly as she saw the prince's cut lip.
"Nothing that won't heal." Orryn replied with a blood-red smile. "We'll keep this one, the others... I don't intend to take them."
"Do you really think it's wise not to go after them with all your might? What if Ser Rolland doesn't manage to capture the ships?" Brienne asked worriedly.
"We'll see, Brienne, until then, let's put these invaders through hell."
It was cold, not even the furs were warm enough. There was no fire, no hot food, but there were pursuers.
The Baratheon and the Northmen chased them like hounds, always catching those who fell behind, always just a few miles away.
They can rest, they can eat, not us. Asha thought in frustration.
Her father had died, and when she returned to Pyke to reclaim her rights, a Kingsmoot was held. She received support, even more than she expected, even her uncle Victarion joined her, but he had to show up...
His other uncle, the long-exiled Euron Crow's Eye, had returned, bringing with him treasures from around the world, enslaved wizards, and promises of conquest. Only Baelor Blacktyde challenged him, and the result was obvious.
So it was, King Euron Greyjoy of the Iron Islands. Asha have 30 longships reduced to 15 and manned by sailors no one wanted. The orders were to continue the unrest in the North, to keep the kingdom shaking while the Iron Fleet plundered the Reach.
Euron simply didn't expect Stannis and his army to return, or he did and just planned to further diminish his niece's influence. He already married me off to that old man, and now this defeat. There won't be much left for me. I should have stayed in the Ten Towers.
Quick and less tired men were sent ahead to alert the ships' guards. They were to be ready to facilitate the escape. Asha only hoped that the little time advantage they had would be enough.
She was exhausted, tired, hungry, and wet. Her fighting spirit never left her, she was always ready to fight another day if she lived, and when she reached the bay where her Longships
were anchored, when she saw the mess of a battle and the Baratheon flags on the masts, she knew it was over.
"Go down the slope slowly, we'll surrender."
"Asha! If it comes to that, we'll die fighting!" Tristifer Botley complained, but his only response was a heavy sigh.
"I'm tired Tris, dying fighting won't get me anything, surrendering... maybe I'll live to get what's rightfully mine." Asha commented, stepping out of the tree line, her men following, all 30 of them.
A tall man with a scarred face approached with a group of knights. He was a man of few words, Asha noticed, and even with a disgusted look on his face, he accepted the surrender.
He'd rather kill us, but he's not in charge here. She thought as she sat on the mud floor next to her huddled men.
Of the 15 Longships, one had been damaged in a storm, and of the 15 anchored, only one had burned. The Bartaheons were lucky.
Shortly after the surrender, the pursuers arrived with some pomp. The knight in stylized armor and helmet rode ahead, Prince Orryn, Asha discovered later.
"You've done well, Ser Rolland, an excellent job!" Orryn congratulated his commander.
"The full attack was effective, but we got help from Lady Mormont by sea." Ser Rolland said awkwardly, nodding to the great Mormont woman.
Alysane Mormont was now the Lady of Bear Island, her mother and older sister having died. She was short, rather fat, and had crooked teeth, but Orryn could see that she had strength in her muscles.
"Thank you for your help, Lady Alysane. An unexpected help, I admit, but a welcome one." Orryn said and offered a handshake. Alysane smiled and accepted, she had a big hand and a lot of strength.
"I see you've captured the rest of the Ironborn. I remember there's a Greyjoy among them, where is he?" Orryn asked and Ser Rolland replied.
"That's her, she claims to be 'Princess' Asha Greyjoy."
Making a face of debauchery at the title, Orryn walked over to the prisoners huddled in the mud and fixed his eyes on the woman with the short black hair. She was beautiful and looked dangerous.
"Take her somewhere where she can eat and clean up. Enemy or not, she's still a Greyjoy from Pyke." Orryn ordered, but stopped for a moment after looking into Asha's eyes once more.
"Watch her for me Brienne, personally and at all times."
"Yes Orryn." The tall woman nodded and pulled the 'princess' up. Asha was led away by the blue-eyed woman, who didn't give her a good look and certainly wouldn't be persuaded to help her, so she said little.
Orryn, on the other hand, was taken to the cabin of a great Longship named Black Wind.
Sitting in the head of the table, he was joined by Ser Rolland, Artos Flint, Lord Harclay, and the newly arrived Lady Alysane.
"I am glad to see everyone here and successful. I'm also pleased to report that the attack on the Deepwood Motte was successful and that Lady Sybelle Glover is well."
"That's good to hear, my lord." Lord Harclay commented with a smile, but stopped when Orryn's smile faded.
"I saw four Mormont ships in the bay. They certainly came by sea at the time of the attack, and for that I am grateful. But if I remember correctly, House Mormont had no goodwill toward my father."
"The Mormont ships did arrive during the battle, and they were crucial in boarding the Ironborn from behind." Ser Rolland interjected again and Lady Alysane laughed.
"I think this is a matter for me, Prince, to be dealt with only between us, what do you think?" The Lady of Bear Island offered and Orryn nodded, dismissing everyone from the room.
"I think he liked me, the great one." Lady Alysane laughed again.
"Got it." Orryn said, smiling too, but not understanding his knight's taste. "Ser Rolland is a devout knight, you know. Pious to the warrior, I think he sees a warrior like you as one of his works."
"I'm a follower of the old gods, I have two children and their parents wouldn't want a competitor, you know? Bears tend to be territorial."
"I see, so you follow your mother's line? Claiming that the fathers of your children are bears?" Orryn asked with a raised eyebrow.
"I think we can stop this banter and discuss what we have to discuss, don't you, my prince?"
"Indeed." Orryn replied, clasping his hands under the table. "I imagine I have the support of your house in these circumstances. My original plan was to capture these ships and give them to House Glover, but your appearance changes things."
"The Glovers will not be able to keep this small fleet safe." Alysane said shrewdly.
"Yes, the Glovers lack that kind of naval investment, and what I need is for the north to have a vassal to protect the west coast." Orryn replied, playing with a feather on the table. "Giving you those Longsships would alienate me from the Glovers in a way, and the 'support' of your house alone wouldn't be enough."
"The Mormonts are respected and known for their loyalty to the Starks, we only really commit to them."
"We are working on that, on the return of House Stark and the overthrow of the Boltons. But until then, I hope to make a deal."
"And what would the terms be?" Alysane asked curiously.
"I will give you the 14 Longships we captured. Your house will patrol these shores.
and... you must marry one of my men. Ser Rolland or not, I don't care, you can choose the one you like more."
"I already have two children and an heir, I will not give them up." The woman said with clenched fists.
"And I'm not even asking you. I can do more for your children than you think." Orryn replied with another smile. "I can have my father request that they be legitimized as true Mormons, and that would end any future succession disputes. How old is your daughter?"
"Nine." Alysane said a little cautiously.
"From what I've heard, she may be engaged to Lady Glover's son, Gawen Glover. They are of a compatible age."
"That might really appease the Glovers..." Lady Alysane said half-heartedly, but with no way to really refuse.
"I'll give you time to consider my offer." Orryn said in a way that indicated his resignation.
Before she left, Alysane heard Orryn instruct the guard to finally summon Asha Greyjoy; the prince would have much to discuss.
Now Asha's appearances begin, I enjoyed every part I wrote about her, I even started writing a story about the Ironborn that I never finished.