Epilogue

The winds howled as the rain pelted their faces, beneath them the seas rolled and crashed against the rocks, as lightning streaked across the night sky and thunder cracked in its wake. Looking out into the seas, Aeron 'Damphair' Greyjoy, sees a great maelstrom open up amongst the waves. Taking this as a sign, he hurriedly tucks the small wailing bundle closer into his chest as he makes his way down the many steps from Castle Pyke. Keeping his still unnamed nephew close to him, Aeron knew he didn't have time to waste, as such signs from The Drowned God come around so few and far in-between. Finally making it to the lowest platform of Castle Pyke, Aeron could see the massive maelstrom had only swelled in size and strength. Looking down at his feet was the small crib he had fashioned out of driftwood which looked like a small boat. Looking back over his shoulder to make sure he was not followed, he knelt down to gently place his nephew into the crib. Tucking him in gently, Aeron couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. Loathe as he was to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else, but he had and would always have a small soft spot for family.

As the seas bellowed Aeron's attention was taken away from the small life in his care, he couldn't believe what it was he was about to do. He had spent the last 13 months plagued by strange visions and dreams, dreams that only became clearer as time went on. Such as learning the reason behind the dreams when his Goodsister Alannys announced she was once again pregnant. From there the dreams seemed to become more and more urgent, finally after 7 months Aeron decided to goto the source and commune with The Drowned God himself. Going down to the beach just off from Lordsport with his brother Victarion and several other priests, they held him down as the high tide came in and drowned him. Going through the ritual while reciting the Old Prayers, Aeron did indeed have a vision. One where he swam through endless waters till he came upon The Drowned God within his Kingdom, seeing two great yellow eyes as large as Lordsport itself surrounded by tentacles. Before Aeron knew it, his mind was assaulted with visions of people, events that were to come to pass, and….impressions. With the last of the visions being Aeron casting a wailing newborn babe into the hungry maw of a maelstrom.

Aeron awoke from his vision retching and hacking as he attempted to cough the seawater out of his lungs, as he looked around him to see well over 30 people standing around him. Even his father Quellon and brother Balon had come down from the castle, and were attempting to smack his back in order to force more water out of his lungs. Aeron would eventually learn that he had slipped free of his bindings over an hour ago, and had just washed ashore mere minutes ago. Aeron revealed that he was indeed able to commune with The Drowned God, and needed time to reflect on all that he had been shown. From then on Aeron remained fairly tight-lipped about the things he had seen, locking himself in the Great Library of Ten Towers. Pouring over page after page of Deep Lore with his friend Lord Harlaw, an equally devout follower of the Faith.

Aeron would eventually understand what he must do in time for his nephew to be born, and so had prepared accordingly. And so stooping down to lift up the litter that held the precious life securely, Aeron gently climbed into the sea with his charge in tow and pushed off. The water quickly taking him and his unnamed nephew farther and farther away from the safety of the small dock, turning around, Aeron made sure to steer him and his charge into the very maw of the maelstrom. Not having to work very hard as the currents quickly and smoothly pulled him and his nephew in, Aeron held on tightly as they picked up speed and went further into the dark abyss. And just as the sea invaded his and his nephew's lungs, Aeron held onto his nephew's body as best he could just as a familiar pair of massive yellow eyes opened up before them both.

Aeron would awake on the beach coughing out seawater, as he held onto his precious nephew who to his relief, was wailing in discomfort. Looking down he saw the evidence that his nephew was touched by The Drowned God, as his nephew opened his eyes for the first time. And there Aeron saw a pair of golden-yellow eyes staring back up at him.

"The world may know you as Theon Greyjoy." said Aeron as he stood up and straightened his back, before looking down to his charge. "But I will know you for your true name, Mostenstraumen Totenklage."

With that, Aeron Damphair walked back up the many steps to Castle Pyke, knowing that he would have many things to explain. Despite the headache that was in store for him, he knew it would be worth it in the end, as The Iron Islands would be made stronger than they've ever been through the deeds of their future Prince. A Prince, who will be able to tap into The Deep Magics like their ancestors of old once could.

11 years and 4 months later

"Stay back!" yelled a little boy as he swung a hand axe to and fro, while keeping his older sister strictly behind him.

Staring up, the yellow-eyed boy couldn't help the fear the gripped him as he took in the sight before him. Towering over him and his sister at a hight of at least 6'7", covered in plate mail with a full bodied chainmail hauberk underneath, with a yellow and black tabbard over the ensemble. Wearing a stag horned helm and absolutely drenched in blood, as more blood continued to drip onto the ground from a massive warhammer that appeared to be as large as the child himself. Lifting up the visor to his helm, the massive knight revealed a face that was rugged, with dark blue eyes and midnight black hair, and the beginnings of a very thick beard.

"Haaaaahahaha! Look it here Ned! The squid's got balls! That's more than can be said for the rest of his family." boomed the large man.

"Damnit Robert! We weren't supposed to push this far in on our own." groused a slightly smaller but equally fearsome looking knight, who had a long face with dark brown hair and grey eyes. Now identified as Ned, this man wielded a greatsword unlike anything the young boy or girl had ever seen.

"Bah! It was only a few dozen of them!" came Robert's retort.

"That doesn't matt-" began Ned.

"Robert! Ned!" came a third voice, causing everyone to look over to see an older knight in blue and silver armor and several other knights rush into the room. "I told you to wait so that we storm the castle together!" said the cross older man.

"Oh ummm, sorry Jon." mumbled the suddenly bashful Robert, looking more like a chastised child than a man grown.

"What will I ever do with you?" Jon mutters with a roll of his eyes. He had only spent these last 6 years being Hand to Robert, and was already thinking he'd need to look for his replacement with how mad Robert drove him.

"What should we do with them?" asked Ned. "They're the last of Balon's children.

"We'll have to take one of them as hostage to ensure Balon doesn't think of starting another Rebellion." stated Jon as he sheathed his sword and strode over to the two children.

"D-Don't come any closer! I won't let you touch her!" yelled the small boy as he did everything he could to put himself in-between these men and his sister.

"Easy." Jon said in a gentle voice as he knelt down in front of the two children. "No harm will come to you or your sister, I promise."

"H-How do I know I can trust you?" the yellow eyed boy asked, trembling as he held the large knife out pointed toward the older knight's chest.

"Because my word is absolute, if I say I will do something, then I will do it." Jon answered firmly. "Will you trust me?" he asked as he held out his hand. The small boy looked around the room briefly as he took everything in before sharing a look with his terrified sister, after a few moments Yara nodded and the small boy slowly handed over the large seax knife.

"Thank you." Jon responded kindly, as he took hold of the long seax knife, mentally noting the blade was pure Valerian Steel and was covered in blood. "Tell me your name."

"Theon, Theon Greyjoy." answered the small boy, his eyes still tracking every movement the various knights made.

"A good name." complimented Jon as he looked to Theon's sister. "And yours?"

"Y-Yara Greyjoy." she answered meekly. "Please d-don't punish Theon, he was only trying to protect me from the others."

"Hmmm?" was Jon's slightly confused response, something that the other gathered knights mirrored as they had no clue what Yara was talking about. "Why would you think we would punish your brother Yara?"

"Be-Because…" Yara's mouth clamped shut as she seemed to lose her voice.

"Because I killed nine of your knights, good Ser, and wounded four others." answered Theon, his voice holding a calmness that made some of the men shiver.

"All of those men in the stairs leading up to this tower?" asked Ned, perplexed as he and Robert shared a look.

"Yes."

"I'll be damned thrice over." muttered Robert, gaining everyone's attention. "This boy is a damn natural, that's it. It's settled, Jon, we'll take the boy with us to King's Landing."

"Robert we can't just jump into a decision like this, we should take time to discuss it. There may be other better options for where we could send the boy." Jon stated.

"Piss on that Jon." came Robert's eloquent reply. "Do you honestly think there's a better place than King's Landing, where the boy could be fostered?"

"You mean the same place that you lovingly refer to as a 'poisonous sewer infested with rats and cunts'?" came Jon's dry response, causing Ned to snicker at Robert's obvious embarrassment. A sight that actually caused Yara and Theon to giggle, though they quickly tamped it down.

"Aye, but look at who he'll have surrounding him." Robert fired back. "Knights like 'ol Barristan the Bold, access to maesters to tutor him, and you to Squire for."

"Me?" came Jon's incredulous response.

"Aye, 'you'." Robert said, a mischievous smile dancing across his face knowing he had already won. "Who in all of Westeros can say they are even half as honorable as you? You who's House Words are 'As High as Honor'..."

"Robert…" began Jon, but Robert was not to be denied.

"I know I'm anything but perfect, but there's not a single swinging dick in this room who will deny that I am a Septon compared to what I would've been thanks to you." stated Robert, causing everyone to pause. It was not often a man like Robert Baratheon spoke so openly about his faults, many as they were.

"If you can do even half for him that you did for me when I was his age, then I know he'll become a damn fine man." continued Robert. "He's Balon's remaining son, that makes him the Heir to the Salt Throne. I know I'd sleep better knowing that the future ruler of The Iron Islands is a man who was raised by you." he said, his voice becoming uncharacteristically soft near the end.

"Very well." sighed Jon, as he knew it was folly to fight the issue any further. As once Robert got an idea into his head, it was next to impossible to convince the man otherwise. Standing up he offered his free hand for Theon, after taking it Theon grabbed onto Yara's as the three of them walked out of the room together.