AN-1: Hello all and welcome to the promised .5 chapter showing things in Westeros while Caster is Essos. Most of the dialogue is from the show before they bring up Caster. The next full chapter of this story with feature a Timeskip with Caster's group preparing to face the Golden Company led by Harry Strickland, Griff and Young Griff, I'll be using a theory concerning Young Griff. Mr E Guest no need for the Elrics, Naruto characters or Rurouni Kenshin but Thank you for the input. Anyway lets drop into Westeros in the Battle of Five Kings.
"Speaking"
[..Pause ...Long Pause]
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing
Chapter 6.5
Across the narrow sea and back in the lands caster called home has chaos erupting. The War of the Five Kings has begun in earnest and this conflict could tear westeros apart and reshape the seven kingdoms. Catelyn stark and mother of robb stark, the newly proclaimed King in the North is embarking on a desperate mission of journeying south to seek an alliance with renly. She arrives at renly's camp that is sprawling sea of tents and banners that stretch as far as the eye could see. The sheer size of the army takes her and her retinues' breath away. They were escorted through the camp and catelyn couldn't help but marvel at the strong force renly has amassed. Knights in gleaming armor and soldiers bearing the sigils of various houses fill the camp. The air buzzes with activity from the clang of smiths at work, the nickering of horses and the chatter of men preparing for war. Renly receives catelyn in his lavish pavilion while surrounded by his Rainbow Guard. The young lord is resplendent in green velvet, a golden crown adorning his head. His charisma is palpable but catelyn couldn't shake the feeling that this was all a game to him.
"Lady Stark.. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit" renly greets her warmly.
"My lord.. I come on behalf of my son Robb Stark the King in the North.. We seek your aid against the Lannisters" catelyn says with curtsy, aware of the weight of her mission.
"Ah the Young Wolf.. I've heard tales of his victories.. Tell me Lady Stark.. What would you have me do" renly says, his eyes sparkling with interest. They begin to discussed potential alliances and strategies but catelyn couldn't help but wonder about the absent caster baratheon.
"Lord Renly.. What of your nephew Caster Baratheon.. Have you heard from him" catelyn interjects during a lull in their conversation. Renly's jovial expression falters with a frown creasing his brow and lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes darting to the side as if recalling an unpleasant memory.
"Caster… I've had no word of him.. Perhaps... Perhaps Joffrey dealt with him by now.. It wouldn't surprise me.. Given how that Boy handles perceived threats" renly said, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and frustration. Catelyn's heart sinks at the news and she opened her mouth to inquire further but before she could utter a word, the tent flap rustles and the announcing of new arrivals. Two women enter the pavilion with the first a vision of beauty and grace, her chestnut curls framing a face that could launch a thousand ships. She wears a gown of flowing green silk that matched renly's attire perfectly as his queen. Beside her is a tall and broad-shouldered figure that catelyn initially mistakes for a man but upon closer inspection, realizes it is a woman that is clad in gleaming armor. Her straw-colored hair is cut short and her face, while not conventionally beautiful holds a certain noble strength.
"Perfect timing.. Lady Stark allow me to introduce my wife Queen Margaery of House Tyrell.. And this is Brienne of Tarth and one of my newest but most loyal knights" renly said, his earlier frown melting away as he beams at the newcomers.
"Lady Stark.. It's an honor to meet you.. I hope we find you well" margaery says, curtsying gracefully with her smile warm and inviting. Brienne bows stiffly with her hand resting on the pommel of her sword, "My lady" she said simply, her voice deep and respectful. Catelyn curtsies to both women, her heart heavy with the weight of her losses and the gravity of her mission.
"Lady Stark.. I wish to offer my deepest condolences for the loss of Lord Eddard.. His reputation as an honorable man was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms" margaery said softly, her voice full of compassion and genuine sympathy.
"Thank you My Lady.. Your kindness is appreciated" catelyn says with her throat tightening at the mention of her beloved ned but manages a grateful nod.
"Lady Stark.. I want you to know that once I take the Iron Throne.. I will see to it personally that Lord Eddard's remains are returned to you and your family.. He deserves to rest in the crypts of Winterfell among his ancestors" renly says after clearing his throat and sensing the somber mood. Catelyn's eyes glistened with unshed tears, "Thank you Lord Renly.. That would mean a great deal to my family and the North" she says, bowing her head slightly.
"My Lady.. You will address him as 'Your Grace'.. Lord Renly is the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms" brienne said suddenly, her voice firm but respectful. Catelyn blinks and is momentarily taken aback by the woman's fierce loyalty. She looks from brienne to renly, noting the slight flush of embarrassment on the young lord's face.
"Of course… Forgive me... Your Grace" catelyn said carefully, meeting renly's eyes. Catelyn's words hang in the air for a moment before renly's jovial demeanor returns and he claps his hands together, a boyish grin spreading across his face.
"Lady Stark.. Allow me to give you a tour of our camp.. I think you'll find it quite impressive" renly said, offering his arm to her. Catelyn bows to margaery as she takes renly's arm to tour the camp of soldiers with brienne following. Renly points out various sights with the enthusiasm of a child showing off his toys. The sheer opulence of the camp strikes catelyn, the air filled with the aroma of roasting meats and the sound of minstrels practicing their songs. They pause briefly to greet Ser Gerald, a knight who was nursing a bandaged arm.
"Horse threw him during practice.. But fear not.. He'll be back in the saddle soon enough" renly explains with a chuckle, "You see Lady Stark.. We have amassed a force of over 100,000 men.. The Lannisters won't stand a chance against such numbers" he adds as they continue their walk, his voice swelling with pride. Catelyn's brow furrowed and she couldn't shake the feeling that renly is treating this war as some grand game. The knight's injury from a practice session, the ongoing preparations for what seem like a grand tourney rather than a war camp are a lack of urgency that worries her deeply.
"Your Grace.. I must implore you to take this conflict more seriously.. These men... They are the knights of summer and winter is coming.. The Lannisters will not be easily defeated" catelyn said carefully, choosing her words.
"My dear Lady Stark.. You worry too much.. With our numbers and resources victory is assured" renly says after his smile falters for a moment but they continue on, "Brienne.. Would you be so kind as to show Lady Stark to her tent.. I've had one prepared for her stay" he adds once the reach the edge of the camp.
"Of course Your Grace" brienne says, nodding solemnly.
"If you'll excuse me Lady Stark.. I must take my leave.. I have... Prayers to attend to... Alone" renly says, turning to back to catelyn but his expression suddenly serious. Catelyn couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as renly walks away but Loras Tyrell follow him. She follows brienne silently, her mind heavy with thoughts of the war to come and the young king who seems more prepared for a festival than a battle.
-XxX-
Meanwhile on the island fortress of dragonstone has a very different scene was unfolding. Stannis stands before a great table carved in the shape of westeros. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he studies the wooden figures representing the various armies scattered across the map.
"Your Grace.. If I may…" Ser Davos Seaworth or the Onion Knight says after clearing his throat softly.
"Speak Ser Davos" stannis said, looking up from the table.
"I've been thinking about Prince Caster… As Robert's trueborn son.. He would be the rightful heir to the Iron Throne.. Perhaps we should seek him out and bring him to our cause" davos said cautiously. Stannis' eyes flash with a mix of anger and frustration as he slammed his fist on the table, "Caster?!.. Where is Caster now when the realm bleeds?!.. He vanished into the night with his small band of his men and abandoned his duty" he says as the wooden pieces to rattle.
"But Your Grace.. Surely if we could find him" davos says, surprised by the vehemence in stannis' voice.
"Enough!.. Caster made his choice.. He fled like a coward while we prepare for war.. The boy is no true Baratheon" stannis says, cutting him off. A tense silence fall over the room as Melisandre, the Red Priestess sashays from the shadows where she had been observing.
"The Lord of Light has shown me visions in the flames Your Grace.. Prince Caster's path lies elsewhere.. It is you who must claim the Iron Throne" melisandre said, her voice soft but commanding. Stannis' jaw tightens with his eyes locked on the map before him, his tracing a finger from dragonstone to storm's end, then up to king's landing.
"I will.. First Renly.. Then King's Landing" stannis declares, his tone leaving no room for doubt. Davos shifts uncomfortably with his eyes darting between stannis and melisandre.
"My brother plays at war like a child with his toys.. He thinks to steal my crown with his flowers and his feasts.. But the Iron Throne is mine by right and I will take it" stannis said, his contempt evident.
"The Lord of Light stands behind you Your Grace.. He has chosen you as his champion" melisandre says while moving closer, her presence seeming to fill the room with an otherworldly warmth.
"Prepare the fleet Ser Davos.. We sail for Storm's End within the fortnight.. Renly will bend the knee or be destroyed" stannis commands, his eyes never leaving the map.
"As you command Your Grace.. But what of the Lannisters.. Surely they won't sit idle while we fight amongst ourselves" davos says while bowing his head, his voice heavy with concern.
"Let them come.. Once I've dealt with Renly.. I'll have his army at my back.. Then we'll march on King's Landing and take what's rightfully mine" stannis said, his lips curling into a grim smile. The wooden pieces on the map seem to loom larger, each one representing thousands of lives that would soon be caught in the storm of war.
"By your leave then Your Grace" davos said, his voice low and respectful. Stannis gives a curt nod and davos bows before slipping out of the room. Stannis' sharp and unyielding eyes meet those of the red priestess and could see her mind working, "What do you propose My Lady.. Renly has gathered a significant force" he asks, his voice low and gravelly. Melisandre moves closer to placed a hand on stannis' shoulder with her touch light but insistent, "His numbers are not everything my King.. The Lord of Light has shown me a way" she said, her voice a seductive whisper.
"Speak plainly" stannis says, his brow furrowing with a frown.
"There are... Shadows my King.. Shadows that can move unseen.. That can strike where steel cannot reach" melisandre says, with a secretive curl of her lips that sends a shiver down stannis' spine. Stannis' eyes widen slightly with understanding dawning, "You speak of dark magic" he said, his voice tinged with both fascination and revulsion.
"The night is dark and full of terrors.. But for those who serve the Lord of Light.. Those terrors can become weapons" melisandre says, nodding slowly. Stannis considers her words as the weight of his claim to the throne, the responsibility to his supporters and the ever-present threat of his enemies pressed down upon him.
"Very well.. We will use whatever means necessary to secure what is rightfully mine. But remember Lady Melisandre.. I am not a man to be trifled with.. If your shadows fail..." stannis said, his voice firm and resolute.
"They will not fail my King.. Renly's time is short.. Soon you will sit the Iron Throne as is your right" melisandre assures him, her red eyes gleaming in the firelight. At the same time davos leans against the cold stone wall of a corridor, his mind racing at thought of the battles to come, of the lives that would be lost in stannis' quest for the iron throne but then his thoughts turn to caster.
"Wherever you are Prince Caster.. Stay there.. For if you return.. I fear Stannis will see you as nothing more than another obstacle to be removed" davos thought, whispering a silent prayer.
-XxX-
In king's landing and inside the red keep is joffrey upon the iron throne, his cruel eyes fixed on the trembling figure before him. Sansa stands at the foot of the dais, her auburn hair cascading down her back and her eyes wide with fear.
"My lady.. I hear your traitor brother has won another victory.. Tell me how do you feel about that" joffrey drawls out, a malicious smirk playing on his lips.
"Your Grace... I am loyal only to you.. Robb's... Actions... Do not reflect my own feelings" sansa says after swallowing hard, her mind racing to find the right words.
"Is that so.. Then perhaps you won't mind if I show you how we deal with traitors in King's Landing" joffrey says, his smirk widening and his green eyes glinting with malice as he snaps his fingers. Ser Meryn Trant steps forward with his hand resting on the pommel of his sword and sansa's heart races, her palms growing clammy with fear.
"Your Grace.. I beg you..." sansa pleads, her voice barely coming out but joffrey isn't listening.
"Ser Meryn.. Teach Lady Sansa the price of treason" joffrey says, leaning forward and his excitement palpable. Ser meryn advances and sansa closes her eyes, bracing herself for the pain to come and with a swift motion. Ser Meryn reaches out and grasps the front of sansa's dress, tearing it down the middle and the sound of ripping fabric echoes through the silent hall, followed by gasps from the onlookers. Sansa's eyes fly open as her face flushes with shame and terror as she tries to hold the torn pieces of her gown together. Before she could recover, a hand strikes her face with a resounding crack and the force of the blow sends her sprawling to the floor, her auburn hair fanning out around her face.
"Hit her again Ser Meryn" joffrey says, his cruel laughter only fueling the kingsguard as the knight takes a menacing step towards the fallen girl. Suddenly the doors to the throne room burst open with a bang as tyrion strides in, his eyes blazing with fury and behind him is his sellsword Bronn following him with a lazy smile.
"What is the meaning of this?!" tyrion says, his voice booming across the hall and far louder than his small stature would suggest. The room falls silent with all eyes turning to the dwarf as joffrey's laughter dies in his throat, "Imp.. This is none of your concern.. I'm teaching the Stark girl a lesson about loyalty" joffrey says, a scowl of annoyance on his face. Tyrion's eyes narrow as he takes in the scene before him of sansa on the floor, her dress torn and a red mark blooming on her cheek.
"Your Grace.. I wasn't aware that beating defenseless girls was a lesson in loyalty.. Perhaps we should review your educational methods" tyrion said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He reaches sansa's side while offering her his hand and with a grateful look, takes took it to rise shakily to her feet. Bronn moves to stand between them and ser meryn with his stance casual but alert.
"I am the King!.. I can do as I please!" joffrey snaps, his face contorted with rage.
"Being King doesn't mean you can do as you please.. It means you must do what's best for the realm.. And this is not it… Your actions are reminiscent of another King.. Perhaps you'd like to ask your uncle about the Mad King Aerys and what happened to him" tyrion says, meeting his nephew's gaze unflinchingly.
"You dare threaten the King in front of the Kingsguard?!" ser meryn snaps, his hand on his sword hilt.
"I'm simply educating my nephew Ser Meryn.. But if you wish for a threat…" tyrion says with a sardonic smile playing on his lips, "Bronn.. The next time Ser Meryn opens his mouth.. Kill him" he adds, glancing to his sellsword.
"Gladly" bronn says, a dangerous glint in his eye. Sansa watches with wide eyes, her torn dress clutched to her chest. Joffrey shifts uncomfortably on the iron throne with his earlier bravado diminishing under his uncle's stern gaze.
"Your Grace.. A wise king knows the value of mercy.. It can turn enemies into allies and it costs nothing but a moment's thought" tyrion said while considering his next words carefully, "If Caster were here.. Would commit such actions" he adds, his voice softer but no less intense.
"Caster?!.. That glorified sellsword.. He's probably drunk in some Essosi brothel by now.. Like my father always did" joffrey says and his green eyes flashing with disdain, "Though I must admit.. I could have used him.. Like grandfather uses the Mountain.. Caster always did have a talent for violence… The Freys come to mind" he adds with a cruel smile on his lips. Tyrion's eyes narrow at his nephew's words, "Perhaps Caster saw something in King's Landing that didn't agree with him Or perhaps he simply chose a different path.. As for the Freys their actions were their choice and led to their demise" he said, his tone deceptively light. Joffrey waves a hand dismissively, "It doesn't matter.. He's gone and we have more pressing concerns... Now uncle if you're quite finished lecturing me on the virtues of mercy.. I believe I was in the middle of something" he says, his his gaze flicking to the trembling sansa.
"Indeed you were Your Grace.. And I believe we've all learned a valuable lesson about the responsibilities of rulership today.. Shall we consider this matter closed" tyrion says while stepping closer to sansa with his small frame somehow seeming to shield her from joffrey's malicious gaze, "Lady Sansa.. Allow me to escort you to your chambers.. I believe you've had quite enough excitement for one day" he adds, extending his hand to her once more. Tyrion leads sansa from the throne room with bronn following close behind. Joffrey remains seated on the throne, his fingers drumming impatiently on the armrest, his eyes fixed on the retreating figures of his uncle and his former betrothed.
"Damn them" joffrey thought, once they were out of sight. Joffrey abruptly stands and storms out of the throne room, his crimson cloak billowing behind him. The remaining courtiers part like waves before a ship, their heads bowed in fear and deference. He rounds a corner and nearly collides with his mother, her emerald eyes narrowing as she took in her son's flushed face and clenched fists.
"What's the matter my sweet" cersei asks, her voice honeyed but her gaze sharp.
"That imp!.. He dares to defy me and question my decisions in front of the entire court!" joffrey hisses, his scowl deepening.
"Tyrion has always been... Difficult" cersei says, her lips thinning.
"He's a disgrace to our family.. He even said If Caster were here.. He wouldn't stand for my actions" joffrey sneers, as cersei strokes his head and his green eyes flashing with anger.
"But he's not here my dear.. And if he's smart.. He'll never return.. Let him stay there in Essos with his Dornish whore and die like some nobody" cersei said, her tone smooth and controlled.
"What do you mean mother" joffrey says, his curiosity piqued by her words.
"In fact.. I have an idea that may hasten your brother's... Permanent exile" cersei says with a cruel smile playing at the corners of her lips. Joffrey's eyes widen with interest, "Tell me" he demand, leaning closer to his mother.
"We could send word to our contacts in Essos…" cersei says, her words for joffrey's ears alone and his eyes light up in malicious glee. As mother and son continue to plot, neither notice the shadow that slips away from behind a nearby pillar.
-XxX-
In riverrun has another discussion is taking place in the great hall of the ancient seat of House Tully. Robb sits at the head of a long table with to his right is his uncle Edmure Tully and to his left is the legendary Ser Brynden Tully, known far and wide as the Blackfish. The room is dimly lit by flickering torches with faded tapestries depicting the history of house tully. The air is thick with the smell of smoke from the hearth and the lingering aroma of the evening's meal. Robb leans forward with his elbows resting on the table and his young face creased from worry, "We need to discuss our next move.. We cannot afford to remain idle" he said, his voice carrying the weight of command despite his youth.
"Aye but we could have advantage they don't expect… 2nd Prince Caster Baratheon" edmure says, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Robert's second son.. What of him" brynden asks, his weathered face betraying a flicker of interest.
"Surely you remember the Storm of the Freys Uncle.. If we had the man who gave the Twins from the Freys" edmure says, leaning forward some. Robb's eyes widen in recognition, "Arya never stopped telling the story of his extinction of the Freys before heading to King's Landing" he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and sadness at the mention of his sister.
"I recall hearing rumors of that incident. A brutal affair but no one has seen him in many Moon" brynden says, stroking his graying beard.
"If Caster were here.. He would be the true King.. Considering the rumors about Cersei's children" robb says, his mind working through the implications.
"Exactly!.. He's a Baratheon with the strength to defend his claim and the ruthlessness to deal with his enemies.. He would be a powerful ally" edmure says, nodding vigorously.
"Or a dangerous enemy.. A man capable of wiping out an entire house at sixteen is not one to be trifled with lightly.. On top of it his mother is Lannister and his grandfather Tywin" brynden cautions, his eyes narrowing.
"True but if the rumors about Joffrey.. Myrcella and Tommen are true... Caster is Robert's only trueborn heir.. He has the strongest claim to the Iron Throne but he could also be a threat" robb says, considering his great-uncle's words and the flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across their faces but after several moment of silence.
"For now.. We must focus on what's directly in front of us.. Caster Baratheon true heir or not.. Is not here and We are" robb said with his voice steady and authoritative, "Mother is meeting with Renly as we speak.. If she can secure his support.. We'll have a force large enough to end this war" he adds, his fingers tracing the outline of the riverlands on the map before them.
"And if she can't" edmure asks, his brow furrowed.
"Then we'll find another way.. We have the North and the Riverlands.. The Lannisters may have the numbers but we have the will" robb said firmly.
"Aye and we have something else they don't.. A cause worth fighting for.. The Lannisters fight for power and gold.. We fight for justice and our people" brynden says, nodding in agreement.
"Exactly.. And that's why we'll win with or without Caster Baratheon" robb says, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The tension in the room eases slightly but replaced by a sense of purpose and determination as the discussion turns to more immediate battle plans.
-XxX-
In the imposing ruins of Harrenhal is tywin sitting at the head of a long table, his piercing green eyes surveying his war council. To his right sits his brother of Ser Kevan Lannister, at the far end of the table looms Ser Gregor Clegane, the Mountain That Rides, his massive frame dwarfing those around him. And moving silently among them, filling cups and fetching parchments is a masquerading arya stark. Her grey eyes dart from face to face, absorbing every word, every gesture as she plays the part of an unremarkable serving girl. Tywin's voice cuts through the low murmur of conversation, "The Young Wolf continues to elude us and win victories" he said, his tone sharp with frustration.
"Perhaps we could use the Stark girls as bait" kevan says and leans forward, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Joffrey's foolishness has cost us one Stark girl already.. We cannot risk losing the other" tywin says, his lips pressed into a thin line. The war council debates strategy as arya moves around the table, refilling goblets. Her hand trembled slightly as she poured wine for the mountain but her face remained impassive.
"Let me take my men and raid the Riverlands.. We'll draw the wolf cub out with fire and blood" gregor says, his rumbling voice filling the room.
"Your methods are effective Ser Gregor but we need more than just destruction.. We need to isolate Robb Stark and cut him off from his allies" tywin says, his eyes narrowing as he considers the suggestion. The war council drones on with plans being made and discarded, strategies debated and refined.
"We could use someone like Caster in times like these" kevan muses, his eyes distant.
"Perhaps but we don't have him.. According to the Spider's whisperings.. He's still off in Essos.. Hunting the Targaryens" tywin says, his green eyes narrowing.
"Hunting Targaryens.. Why would he concern himself with such a task" kevan asks, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
"He was sent by Robert to eliminate any potential threats to his claim without informing the Small Council" tywin says while his fingers drum on the table, a rare sign of agitation from the usually composed lord of casterly rock. Arya's ears perks up at this new information as she always wondered where jon and caster gone but the idea of them hunting them down in the far-off lands of essos seems like something out of those tales.
"But aren't the last Targaryens just children powerless children.. Surely they pose no real threat" one of the lannister cousins Reginald says, his voice hesitant.
"Children grow up Reginald.. And a Targaryen with even a hint of support could rally many to their cause.. Caster it seems understands this better than most" tywin snaps, his tone cold and hard.
"Forgive me my Lord.. But who is Caster" arya said in a small voice, her eyes downcast as she places the wine jug back on the table. Tywin's piercing gaze falls upon her and for a moment she fears she has overstepped but then the old lion's expression softens, almost imperceptibly.
"My second grandson.. He many names and even more talents.. Some call him the Storm of the Freys.. Others the Rouge Prince" tywin replies, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and frustration. Arya recalls caster's easy smile, his story about the frey, his interest in her archer in winterfell and their short reunion in king's landing before vanishing.
"Is he... He fighting for you my lord" arya asks, her curiosity getting the better of her caution.
"No girl.. Caster chose to forge his own path.. Away from the family.. A waste of potential if you ask me" tywin says with a laugh that is short and bitter.
"You're too harsh Tywin.. Caster has some faults but he's far more capable than you give him credit for" kevan says with a frown, his brow furrowing as he looks at his brother.
"Capable or not.. He's not here when we need him" tywin says, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.
"True.. But think on this brother.. If Caster had been born first instead of Joffrey.. We likely wouldn't be in this mess" kevan says, leaning back in his chair. Arya is pretending to busy herself with the wine jug while waiting for tywin's response.
"Perhaps you're right Kevan.. Caster always did have a better head on his shoulders than Joffrey" tywin says, his voice low and thoughtful. Arya retreats to the shadows once more as the war council continues its deliberations but now she listens with renewed focus. She is no longer just a serving girl but a wolf in sheep's clothing, gathering information that could one day help her family.
-XxX-
On the wind-swept shores of Pyke is another council of war was taking place and in the damp, salt-stained halls of the greyjoy stronghold. Yara Greyjoy stands before her father Balon with her stance rigid and her face a mask of forced patience.
"The Kraken rises again!… While the Wolves and Lions tear each other apart.. We will take what is ours with iron and salt!" balon declares, pacing before the Seastone Chair. Yara watched her father while noting the wild gleam in his eyes. She had seen it before, years ago when he led the ironborn in their failed rebellion against robert baratheon but now the old hunger for a crown has returned.
"Father… Perhaps we should consider our options carefully.. The mainland is at war yes.. But..." yara said, her voice steady despite her growing unease.
"Options?!.. We are Ironborn!.. We do not sow.. We reap.. The North lies undefended and ripe for the taking" balon spits, rounding on his daughter. Yara bit back a sigh as she hoped her father might see reason, might understand that the world has changed since his last attempt at kingship but the old ways run deep.
"And what of Theon.. He's with Robb Stark now.. If we attack the North.." yara asks, thinking of her brother with the starks.
"Theon will remember he's Ironborn.. Or he'll die with the wolves" balon says while cutting her off, his voice hard. A chill ran down yara's spine at her father's words but she loved her brother, despite their years apart and the thought of him caught between two warring families filled her with dread. Balon continues to rant about his plans for conquest but yara's mind drifted. She thought of the stories she has heard from passing ships, tales of dragon children in the east and caster baratheon, the prince who carving his own destiny in essos. Yara allowed herself to imagine a different path for the iron islands for a moment, one that didn't involve throwing themselves into a war they couldn't hope to win. As balon's voice rose in fervor, speaking of crowns and conquest as yara steels herself for what was to come, even if it meant sailing into the teeth of a storm.
To Be Continued
AN2: As I said above next chapter has a timeskip and the Five Kings are plotting but also discussing Caster except Balon but Yara will have an encounter with Caster in spoiler Yara will become ruler of the Iron Islands Thank you to everyone for their support and the small few who review.