Elia Nymeros Martell
Truth be told, she was not entirely sure that she was in the position to beg for the lives of her children, or her own. Granted, that did largely rest on the fact that a thirteen year old ironborn had broken into the Red Keep, threw her and her children over his shoulders and had proceeded to make off with them to his sloop, using magic to fill the sails with wind as he laughed like a madman. Though she was merely assuming the boy was ironborn, given the fact that he was wearing a Greyjoy Kracken. "You have not said why you kidnapped me."
And she was honestly pondering trying to escape even as the boy nodded. "Well, as it is, my old man would grumble about taking you or the little princess as a salt wife," which made her tense, "though hey, I argue enough about how the old ways were stupid enough already. Nah, as it is, old gold whiskers decided that since you were the losing side, best to take his own revenge and present some gifts to the winners. Figure this will tweak his nose raw and fierce."
There was an almost charming grin on the boys lips, a sparkle of mischief in his eyes that suddenly made her think of her little brother. Which was more worrying than comforting truth be told. And Rhaenys, Balerion the dread kitten firmly in her arms, merely looked on with excitement. "But, as far as things go? Should have you down in Sunspear in a few days." She blinked, as she took in the words... and then at the obviously magical ship. "Which is when we shall part ways and I will go back to annoying my father."
He said it so cheerfully, without even a hint of fear or shame, made her daughter giggle as she shook her head. Aside from the impossible nature of things. "And your name?"
She had her suspicions, as he grinned at her. "Maron Greyjoy, my lord fathers second son! The smartest of the lot as well!" She had to laugh at the shameless boast. "Hey, I actually know what a coin is and how to use them!" Which made her laugh harder, as the young man kept protesting... even as he kept them on course, lights in the distance soon vanishing as they sped on by, and soon they passed onto the narrow sea.
Four days later as she stepped off the docks to Sunspear, Oberyn hugging and crying out with joy... and felt something was missing from her head. And indeed, as the sloop was pulling out of the docks, the young Greyjoy (who was no more than three and ten) was waving her tiara laughing like a madman as it sudden shot forth like an arrow. She shook her head as little Rhaenys and Aegon reached out, her brother blinking before snorting and laughing. Of course... "Brother, I have news. Did you pick up the girl from the Tower of Joy?"
At his confusion, she sighed. She did not hate the young Stark girl, no, most of this was likely on her idiot husbands head. Still, from what she had been able to gather... it was a shame that the tower was so far inland, as it would have been another princess for the Greyjoy to have 'stolen'. And released, no matter that now Rhaenys is saying she wanted to stay caught. Something to tease her about in several years, but there was work that needed to be done now.
Rhaella Targaryen
A part of her wanted to weep. Another part was relieved. "You say that you managed to take my good daughter and her children to Sunspear? Why not..." She paused, as he cocked his head and looked at her, amusement flashing in his eyes, something suggestive of something (not sexual, thank the seven) on his lips. "Here?"
Still, he nodded. "Well, as it is, while I'm sure that its a fine castle and a nice defensible location... Sunspear is also where the majority of her family and their vassals are close at hand, somewhat further removed from those coming after you as soon as their business in the capital is done with." He shrugged. "As it is, unless your ready for a siege, and in that particular case its more about delaying things than winning given the general state of affairs elsewhere, well, Dragonstone does not have a lot to recommend it at the moment."
She paused, as she looked down at him. "Then why did you come here?"
He shrugged. "Well, to see if I could steal away another dragon princess to someplace a touch safer." He paused a moment, and looked to Viserys. "Meaning no offense to the prince and all, but princesses are prettier and make for better loot, even if there would be space for him as well."
She paused, and then chuckled, a torn thing as the knights bristled and started to draw blades. "You, you are a bold one, are you not?"
The Greyjoy youth merely grinned and bowed low, hand in front of his stomach. "Ah, but life is to serious and short to be grim and bleak all the time. Given the choice between tears or laughter, I'd rather laugh." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her, and for a moment he seemed less a boy and more something of the sea itself. And then the moment passed. "Still, your permission to whisk you off some place safer?"
She shook her head, a faint smile on her lips, even as she refused.
Balon Greyjoy (289 AC)
He glared down at one of his more annoying mistakes. "And what brings my coward and failure of a son back? Come to see if there would be a place for one that refuses to pay the Iron Price?" His lips curled into a sneer as Maron merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow, carefully considering his words like some soft greenlander woman. "Well boy, speak!"
"Nah, I just came back to see if you were going to fuck up as badly as I heard you were. And..." The brat whistled. "Seriously, this is why mother has to be on top, isn't it?" The brat was speaking with what seemed like honest fucking awe in his tone, even as he dodged a backhand like he was the wind. "I mean seriously, I've heard of some creative means of getting yourself killed, but damn, I didn't know you hated everyone else enough to want to drag them down with you."
There was whispering and muttering, as people watched... and as Maron kept dodging axes and swords, not even paying any attention to them. "Big talk from a child that knows nothing of war." Balon narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Though I thank you for delivering the Iron Wind to me. A ship that swift will be useful once a real man takes the helm."
And now the brat was sniggering. "I know a few things father. Like picking a fight when outnumbered seven or eight to one? That seems like a bad idea." And with a casual duck, two of his men howled, blades biting into each other. "As it is father, Westeros is too unified to raid. Sure, the dragons are dead, but they haven't splintered yet. But that would mean..." The fool slapped hands to his cheeks as he squatted out of the way of a blade that would have decapitated him. "Waiting!"
And he rose, leaping into the air, flipping himself, as he landed on the beam above their heads. "But yeah, I'm clearly not welcome. Rodrick, here, have a codpeice." His heir bellowed as the crotch armor struck his forehead, "And if you'll forgive me, I'll show myself out."
Even as Balon bellowed for archers to shoot his wayward son, the shit made his escape. Months later, as he knelt and swore oaths to the stag king, as Theon was taken to be a hostage? He could all but hear his most hated son laughing at him.