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The Icefyre Conquest 16
🕑 Added 2022-09-23 10:29:23 +0000 UTC“Milo-Milord!” Jory Cassel gasped as he rushed into the Lord’s Solar, not even knocking on the door as he usually did, his face pale and sweating despite the cold. Ned almost leaped out of his chair with the dagger in his hands as the sudden intrusion, the sound of the door banging on the wall making his ears ring for a moment. However, on seeing it was the head of his guards, he calmed down and frowned worriedly, having never seen the man so…unsettled.
“What is it, Jory? Did something happen in the town?” he asked, sitting back down and placing the dagger on the desk, his hand reaching down to grab the hilt of the sword kept by his legs, “Or did Arya do somethi-”
“It's Jon, Milord,” he gasped, pointing in the direction of the gates of the Keep. “and Lyanna too. Both are here…and it is better if you just see it, milord.”
Ned blinked in shock, sure that he had heard it wrong, or his Head Guard was snorting some dangerous mushrooms. Jon and Lyanna were at Bear Island, fostering with the Mormonts away from the eyes of the world. And if they had any intentions of coming back to Winterfell, then Maege would have, should have informed him about it. Deciding to take Jory to the Maester, Ned once again stood up, sighing as he sheathed his dagger at his waist.
Honestly, what Jory thin-
“Father!” Bran’s voice came from the window, and he sighed at his second youngest's proclivity to climb—especially the places and spots he should avoid. He turned to look at his son, his blue eyes peeking out from his auburn-brown hair as he gripped the stone walls tightly, a toothy grin on his face, “Arya says her brother and sister are coming home! Is that true? I can see a lot of people out of the main keep’s walls, and the banners of the Mormonts and Glovers!”
Ned blinked in shock, his brain trying to process the words Bran was saying as he walked towards the window. Grabbing Bran by his waist, he hauled the boy inside and looked out towards the gates, his mouth dropping open in shock at what he saw. Jon and Lyanna were standing at the forefront of the crowd, Maege and Galbart a step behind them, accompanied by Dacey Mormont…and yet behind them were hundreds of women. The next moment, he ran out of his solar, Jory and Bran hot on his heels as Winterfell began to realise what was happening.
Servants and guards all rushed towards the walls, murmurs filling the air as Robb and Theon too came from the yard, accompanied by Rodrik as well. Snow crushed beneath their feet, and Ned noticed Catelyn, Sansa, and Septa Mordane too coming out of the Keep. The guards stationed at the gates looked in his direction, and Ned nodded at them, wondering why the gate was not opened as soon as his children and the Lords appeared. The Ironwood parted in the middle a few moments later, and Eddard felt his breath leave his chest at the sight that greeted him.
He would recognize that old, weathered, somber face anywhere after the failed rebellion from Balon. Rodrik Harlaw, the Lord of Ten Towers was on his knees before Jon, his hands bound behind his back, and so were the other…Ironborn held in place by Maege, Galbart, and their men. What in the name of the Old Gods and New was happening?!
“Hello, father,” Jon greeted him cheerily, waving a hand as he picked up Rodrik and him inside the gates, “Can someone be a helpful Northman and capture Theon Greyjoy, he is after all a hostage in case the Ironborn attack the realm once again.”
What…Ned blinked, too much happening at once for him to comprehend in a moment. The Ironborn attacked the realm?! However, his thoughts were cut off as the sound of a sword being unsheathed came from behind him, and he saw Jon sigh disappointedly.
“You fucking bastard!” Theon screamed, running forwards with his blunted blade raised, spit flying from his lips at the sight of his Mother, Uncle, and Aunt bound in front of him. His mother, who was dressed in ragged clothing and had dirt on her cheeks. His mother, whom he had not seen or talked to in so many fucking years! “How dare you lay a hand on your betters, you son of a whore! I will chop off your hands and feed them to the sharks you cock-sucking bastard!”
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Honestly, I hadn’t expected anything else from the brash, arrogant, and moreover, emotional asshole that was Theon Greyjoy. On the way from Mormont Island to Deepwoode, and from there to Winterfell, there were several moments when the thought of everyone’s reaction had played out in my head. Disappointment from my Uncle, maybe jealousy and relief from Robb, disbelief, and scorn from Catelyn and excitement from Arya. Sansa…I had no thoughts about her.
Returning my thoughts to the squid, I scoffed openly at the threat he posed to me—or rather the lack of one. His arm was raised too high, he was running too fast…and that sword was more blunted than a practice wooden blade. An act of precaution from Rodrik no doubt. Removing my hand from Harlaw’s neck, I took a step forwards, lazily raising my hand to stop his arm as it came down. Theon grunted at that, his dark eyes burning with hatred as he pulled on his arm with all of his strength, but to no avail. I had wrestled and sparred with the hardiest of Northmen in the last six years, and worked my body continuously in the various tasks Maege set for us.
Theon, in comparison, seemed to have enjoyed a life of luxury in comparison. I knew that he definitely hadn’t chopped trees or carried any sort of heavyweight, all those tasks being to menial for a future Great Lord. Tightening my fingers on his wrist, I rolled my eyes and twisted my hand sharply. The sword fell from his grasp, and Theon gasped with pain as I turned in place and twisted his whole arm even further—bringing it behind his back and pushing him to his knees.
After fighting Ironborn…and killing several dozens of them, Theon felt just like a little bully in comparison. He wasn’t experienced in real combat, in real fatal danger. Gripping his fingers even tighter, I pushed his face down into the dirt and that seemed to finally jolt the whole Winterfell into wakefulness. Guards unsheathed their swords and lowered their spears in our direction, while Robb too ran forwards, his practice blade too out of his scabbard and raised at me.
I was surprised by the lack of hurt or anger I felt at that.
“Hello, Robb,” I greeted him warmly, waving my hand at him before my eyes turned towards the Warden of the North. He was still staring at us with shock, his jaw open and his eyes moving ever each and every one of us. Snapping my fingers to catch his attention, I nodded my head at the struggling man in my grip, “Now, Rodrik Harlaw has a few words to say to you all, and after that, the guards are going to take this sorry excuse for an Ironborn, and an ever sorrier excuse of hostage down to the cells.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked in return, frustration and anger making its way on his face as his eyes shifted to the Harlaw behind us, “What is the meaning of this Maege, Galbart? Ironborn attacked the North?!”
“They did Lord Stark,” Rodrik spoke up, and I saw the soldiers around me take a step forwards, their faces twisted in anger and shock both, “My Heir, Harras Harlaw raided the Bear Island, to gather women for the Drowned God’s festival on Old Wyk.”
“Then how are you here, Milord?” he asked, raising a hand, and the guards immediately lowered their weapons. He strode forwards towards me, taking a look at me and Visenya both, his eyes lingering on the smattering of fresh scars that were visible on my face, neck, and hands, “I want the full account of events, right now…and Jon, unhand Theon right now.”
“I won’t,” I shook my head, and I heard Robb growl again, his Tully-blue eyes glaring at me. I smirked at him, twisting Theon’s arm even more, “I read the treaty signed between you and the King. Theon Greyjoy was a hostage, is a hostage to ensure no rebellion or raiding from Balon Greyjoy and his bannermen. He is not here for fostering, and neither is he a son of your friend visiting Winterfell. You have coddled and allowed him far too much independence father, and he has grown arrogant, boastful…and too assured of his position here. Or are you just going to ignore that he called m-our mother a whore right in front of you? My own half-brother is raising his sword at me, without hearing the full story or noticing the state of the Ironborn behind me.”
“Take care of how you speak about your betters Snow,” Catelyn interrupted, stalking forwards to stand beside her son and husband, “Are you trying to discredit Rob? You return here after six years with captured highborns, lay a hand on another, and then insult the future Warden of the North. Finally showing your true colors are you?”
“Harras fucking Harlaw kidnapped my sister Lady Stark,” I responded drily, cocking my head din Visenya’s direction, “along with nineteen other women from Bear Island, Forgive me if I decided to invade Harlaw Island and get back my sister, along with the Northwomen. And as for showing my true colors, if asking my father to imprison a hostage and call out your son on his… behavior for the said hostage is wrong, then, by all means, punish me.”
She glowered at me, and raised her finger in my direction. The guards and soldiers from Riverrun responded instantly, moving forwards to likely gut me on the spot. However, my Uncle glared at their captain, a prick that went by the name of Stephan, if I remembered correctly. “No one will raise their weapons in my Keep without my say-so. For now, Jory, cuff Theon and take him aside,” he ordered, his voice firmer than it had ever been, “and who are these women behind you…don’t tell me you brought back every woman on that Island?”
“I did,” I nodded, pointing at the Ironborn prisoners, “They weren’t in any state to oppose us you know, so I decided to rescue the women from Westerlands and the Reach too.”
“And what about the other Reavers,” Jory asked, walking forwards and taking Theon from my hands—and he was much rougher than me, “I doubt those cunts allowed you to do so…and where the fuck would you get the ships to move so many women?”
“Maybe we should get to the solar before we discuss anything more,” Maester Luwin suggested, taking a long look at the hundreds of new arrivals in Winterfell—while whispers and murmurs continued to rise in volume around us. The workers and soldiers were all talking about how the North had finally done something about the Ironborn, “The Sun is going down milord, and we better get all these people inside. We also need to inform the King as soon as possible, and we can do so only when we know every detail.”
“Very well,” Uncle nodded after a few moments, and I saw Catelyn open her mouth, no doubt about to protest the decision of taking me and VIsenya into the solar. But Uncle continued before she could say anything, “Jon, Lyanna, Maege, and Galbart, come to my solar. Robb, and Catelyn, see to it that the women are taken care of in the Great Hall before coming to the Solar. Jory…drop Theon to be watched by your best men in the room below my Solar, adn then come there.”
I took a deep breath, realizing that a new part of my life was about to start. One where my wits would be much more important than my sword. Dusting my hands, I nodded at Abel and Denna, the leader of the Southern women, who nodded back at me. Taking Visenya’s hand in my own, I smiled at Maege and Galbart, the aged Lord sighing loudly as he started towards the solar, the three of us just a step behind him.
“You are playing a dangerous game D-Jon,” Maege muttered quietly as the sea of people in front of us parted, and I grinned at some of them, remembering my time here six years ago. I nodded at her warning, and Visenya giggled quietly as she squeezed my hand, “and do you Ned will get angry because we didn’t send him ravens?”
“He may,” I nodded, rising on my toes as I searched for a familiar face in the crowd, “or he may not. Either way, it doesn’t matter much. For now, let's just tell him about how it all started, how we attacked Harlaw Island, and how we came back.”
“JOOONNN!” the voice I had been waiting for rang out in the whole courtyard, and everyone turned as one to see her run out of the corridor, a wide grin on her face and her grey eyes glimmering with tears. A bow was slung across her back, with arrows bouncing the quiver at her hip as she ran over the snow-covered ground. I grinned at the sight of her breeches and leather shirt, the girl still as wild and unconcerned with the scandalized face of her sister behind her, or the aghast ones of her mother and the Septa, “YOU AND LYANNA ARE BACK!”
I laughed as she literally jumped me, her arms and legs wrapping around me and her face pressed beside my own. Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled back and looked at her, nodding my head at Visenya, “Hug her too you little menace, I don’t think my ribs can handle your power right now.”
“Lyanna,” she giggled, somehow moving from my arms to Visenya without even touching the ground—was it really Bran who was half-monkey in the books and shows both? Arya laughed brightly, and the whole courtyard smiled and chuckled at the sound, all of us remembering the days when she followed us around like a lost puppy, “You look so beautiful. I guess I know why the Reachmen called you the prettiest girl in the North when they came back from Bear Island the last moon.”
‘Not this shite again’ I groaned mentally, imagining the no doubt angry faces of Catelyn and that hag Mordane both, ‘I need to have a talk with Arya regarding what she says, especially now that we are back for a few moons at least.’
“Listen, Arya, we need to have a talk with Father right now,” Visenya said, putting down the little girl, and I almost burst out laughing at the pout on Arya’s face. Kneeling down to the girl’s height, she tapped her nose, smiling sweetly in the way she used to six years ago, “We will come to you later okay? And then you can show me how good you are at archery now!”
“Come here Arya,” Catelyn grunted out, stalking forwards to grab her hand and drag her away, “How many times have I told you that they—you just come with me, Little Lady!”
Sending a wave at the grumbling, kicking girl, I walked towards the solar, sighing as the warmth of Winterfell’s walls seeped into my body, banishing the weeks' worth of cold that had settled in my bones. I sighed happily, running a hand over the cool stone and remembering the days when Visenya and I used to run in these very same corridors—laughing and giggling with tarts on our faces, instead of the lies that were now there. We climbed the stairs in silence, my hand reaching to grab hers instinctively as we turned to our right—the door of our Uncle’s solar looking as foreboding as it had done all those years ago, when he had called me to announce the fostering.
Nodding at the four guards stationed at the door, I knocked on the Ironwood, opening it once I heard the ‘Come in Jon’ from inside. Pushing it open, I let Visenya and Maege walk inside first, before I let the door close behind me, taking in the scene inside the Solar. Jory was standing by the now-closed window, his arms crossed and his face twisted in a frown, Maester Luwin just besides him. Galbart was sitting in the chair in front of my Uncle, a mug of ale already in his hands and his large fur cloak hanging on the back of the chair.
Maege and Visenya sat down in the remaining chair, and I shook my head at my Uncle as he opened his mouth—I was perfectly fine standing up. Placing my hands on the back of Visenya’s chair, I took a deep breath as he did the same, and for a moment, I realized why people must have thought Jon Snow to be his son in the books and shows both. For in this world, our faces really didn’t match that much, and neither was I that much of a ‘brooding Northman’.
“Start from the beginning Jon,” he ordered, his eyes flicking down to those on the chairs before he turned back towards me, “I want each and every detail before I send a letter to Robert and Jon Arryn.”
“Harras Harlaw led a party of fifty-something Ironborn to Bear Island,” I began, nodding down in Maege’s direction as the woman grunted in agreement, his fingers tightening upon the mug of ale, “It was around sundown, and while we killed almost everyone…they succeeded in taking nineteen women to their ship, along with Lyanna.”
I allowed that fact to sink for a moment, hearing the sound of knuckles popping as Eddard Stark tightened his fists in anger, a bestial growl leaving his throat. At our left, Jory and Luwin both gasped, their eyes snapping over to the blond woman sitting on the chair before them. “For three days, I was unconscious due to a poisonous arrow wound,” I continued, pulling down my cloak and leather doublet to reveal the pink, healed scar on my chest, “When I woke up, we immediately got up on the ships and rowed over towards the Harlaw Island, taking thirty men with us. We were sailing on the tails of a storm, so the seas were smooth and the winds were fast for us. Within four days we reached the Islan-”
“And you didn’t think once of sending a raven to me?” he growled, cutting me off as he pointed at Visenya, “My daughter had been kidnapped by the Ironborn and you decided to go and attack them by yours-”
“I did,” I interrupted, waving a hand at Maege as the door behind me opened, and Robb and Catelyn walked in, “The Ravenry in the Bear Island was destroyed in the flight, and there are no more ravens there. And there wasn’t a time to send someone to Winterfell or Deepwood Motte to await your instructions. I wasn’t going to let my sister be in the hands of rapists for one more moment. Something I can sure you can understand, when you rode South sixteen years ago to save the Lyanna that was your sister.”
“I had an army!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the table and making everyone save for me, Galbart, and Maege jump. However, the anger seemed to bleed out a moment later as he slumped back in his seat, rubbing his face tiredly before his eyes looked at Visenya with horror and sadness, “Wer-Were you…Were you raped?”
The wood creaked beneath my fingers at that thought, and everyone glanced at me for a moment as I breathed in deeply, trying my damnedest to not rush down the corridors and burn those remaining Ironborn to ashes. Thankfully, Visenya realized my state of mind instinctively, and her hand reached up to lay above mine, her cold fingers feeling like a bucket of cold water to my head. I shook my head, feeling the heat that had started spreading out from my chest recede back—and I looked up just in time to see him bolt out of his chair at the quiet ‘No’ Visenya let out.
He picked her up and crushed her against his chest, and for a moment, I almost laughed out loud at the way his large cloak completely hid her from sight. He kissed the top of her hair, a choked sob coming out of him as he ran a hand through her silky blond hair. Behind me, I heard both Rob and Catelyn gasp at the action, having never seen the Quiet Wolf cry…and honestly, I was stunned too. Maybe Visenya had been right all those weeks ago?
“I am fine Father,” she said sweetly, reaching up with her hands to wrap them around his back, sighing happily as she turned back towards me, “There was a storm in the sea, and thus the Ironborn left us alone, especially after three women threw themselves off the ship. One tried to get Abel and I out of the cage, but he cracked his skull against the bars when a wave hit the side. We were supposed to be taken to Ten Towers first, from where we would set out for Old Wyk…where we were finally going to be used as salt wives.”
“Luwin…send the ravens,” my Uncle growled out, turning around to grab Ice from its stand on the wall. He unsheathed the Valyrian greatsword, the ice-blue ripples along it glimmering in the dim light, “Call the banners, and tel-”
“Father,” I interrupted, making his dark eyes snap to mine, and for a moment, I shivered, seeing the wrathful expression on his face, “I think you should first listen to what happened after that, upto when we came back to the Bear Island, and well, the King already knows about it. I sent the ravens to him and the other Lords of the North as soon as we reached Deepwoode Motte.”
“How dare you presu-”
“Can you shut up for a moment, please?” I groaned out, and ignoring the gasps from everyone, I turned towards her, “I am tired of you trying to somehow spin every word and act of mine into an attempt over Winterfell’s seat. Let me make it clear to you, for once and forever, that I don’t want to be Winterfell’s Lord. That seat belongs to the man behind me, and then his trueborn son, Robb Stark, and then his children after him. I am not the bastard the Blackfyres were, and neither what your Faith portrays us to be. Now, if you are done heaping your prejudices upon us, then let me continue.”
“He is right Cat,” Uncle Ned nodded with a sigh, making her pale greatly while Robb just stood there uncomfortably. Lowering the sword gently to his table, he turned to look at me, giving me a small smile, “It was a smart decision, sending the letters to the concerned parties as soon as you could do it. By now, they must be uniting at KIng’s Landing…though, Mace Tyrell’s speed is something I am not so sure about. But that is something we can think about later…you may continue, my son.”
“We sailed to Harlaw Island, and when we arrived, it was night. In the cover of their stone adn straw houses, we moved inwards, killing any Ironborn we saw on our way. It was not a fight, to be honest. They were drunk off their asses, and too busy enjoying their salt wives to notice us until we slit their throats and chopped off their limbs from the back. We moved upwards towards the Ten Towers, and soon, the few lucid Ironborn noticed us. However, I grabbed the bottles of rum and ale that they had, we stuffed some torn pieces of cloth in them. Lighting the ends on fire, we threw them upon the Ironborn, burning them all as we raced up to the Keep.”
“Ingenious,” Maester Lwuin commented, looking at me as if he had never seen me, “I always knew you were a bright lad Jon…but what you have done, I wonder why nobody thought of it before.”
“Probably because everyone is busy drinking the alcohol to burn things with it,” Jory spoke up, his tone dry and mocking, and it was enough to break the ice for a moment as we chuckled a little, “By the Old Gods, Harlaw Island must have had room fulls worth of bottle for you to smash, boy.”
“They did,” I nodded, remembering the way Vhyraxes had lit the reavers alight with his dark flames, “We reached the castle and moved inside, checking each room and killing anyone we saw on the way. Thankfully, most of the reavers there were already on Old Wyk for their festival…and those that remained, we made short work of them. Sometime later, Lyanna found me after I killed three more Ironborn, adn from th-”
“How did you get free from the Ironborn?” Robb interrupted, his brows furrowed as he looked from me to her, “They must have bound your arms and legs when they took you and the other women to the Ten Towers.”
“Harras threw me on his bed and turned his back to me as he closed the doors,” Visenya began, narrating the story we had created in front of Maege and Dacey. She raised her hands the next moment, showing the faint scars from the ropes that had dug into her pale, unblemished skin, “I managed to pull one of my wrists out of the bindings, and picked up the bottle of Arbor Gold on his table. When he turned around, I kicked him in his balls and smashed the bottle on his head, right before driving it inside his throat and tearing it from one end to the other. I picked up Nightfall and threw the candle on his body before running out of the room. Killed twenty or so Ironborn with that longsword and a fallen dagger in my hand, before I found Jon and his party.”
“I see,” Uncle Ned sighed in relief, bringing in my sister once more for a large hug, before his face twisted with anger and he glared in the direction of the Iron Islands, “Gods, I wish Harras was alive right now, so that I could gut him myself and stomp his manhood into nothingness. Lyanna…you are so brave my girl, so brave and so…I am very much proud of you my daughter. Prouder than any father has ever been in the history of Westeros.”
“Next, we found the remaining women of the Bear Island, adn freed them while keeping the Ironborn left to guard them alive…for the execution in Winterfell,” I continued once our Uncle returned to his seat, talking a gulp of the ale straight from the jug, his hand on Ice’s hilt as his face devoid of any emotions, “I decided to take the remaining Harlaws hostage, knowing that it would gain the interest of the Hand of the King more than some squabble between two kingdoms. On the way back, I took the women that had been the Ironborn’s hands too, and burned every drop of alcohol on that Island.”
“My word Jon Snow,” Maester Luwin spoke up first in the wake of the silence that had descended upon the room, “I do-I don’t have words for what you have done, especially at an age where you are just considered a man grown.”
“Aye,” Uncle Ned nodded slowly, his grey eyes staring deep into mine, “Now, is there anything else I should be aware of before I execute Theon Greyjoy?”
“Fath-”
“Enough Robb,” he spoke over his son, glaring into his heir’s eyes as he slammed his fist on the table, “This is not up for discussion. My own nature and softness may have resulted in Theon Greyjoy being treated as a ward, as a fostering highborn, as a part of this family…but he is very much not. He was a hostage, a means to curtail the Ironborn’s true nature and force them to stay away from our shores. But as the treaty signed between us said, tomorrow Morning, Theon Greyjoy shall be executed beneath the Godswood, and the line of Balon Greyjoy shall end.”
“I would suggest you hold that execution for now,” I spoke up, shaking my head as the conversation I had with Visenya on our way to Deepwoode Motte came back to the forefront of my mind, “Every Great Lord is on his way to Winterfell right now, along with the King and the Hand, on my invitation and information. If Theon loses his head right now, news will leak outside the Keep’s walls, and Balon will hear of it. While the various Lords of the North and the realm are in Winterfell, he will set loose his animals on the shores once again.”
“Why did you invite them to Winterfell, especially before you even told me anything?!”
“I didn’t invite them specifically, but they will be coming by themselves when the contents of my letter to the King leak in his court,” I scoffed, remembering what treacherous, self-serving cunts half of the small council had been, “A Great House is going to end by the time this finishes. The Bastard of Winterfell rescued the Rose of the North along with more than two hundred women from the Ironborn, while capturing three Nobles and acquiring a Valyrian Steel Sword in the process. You think they won’t travel thousands of miles for this? Especially when two of the Kingdoms have their women sitting in the Hall below?!”
“My word,” Maester Luwin muttered, grabbing onto the window behind him, “Are you sure that you don’t want to become a Maester, especially with that brain.”
“I rather like swinging around swords Maester Luwin,” I cocked an eyebrow, thumbing the hilt of Nightfall, “Especially since my sister gifted this to me. And to be honest, celibacy isn’t my thing. Life would be too boring without sex and women and fighting.”
“That’s true,” Robb muttered quietly from behind, and I turned around right as Catelyn gasped, horrified beyond comprehension as her hand swatted him upside his head. Galbart and Jory coughed at the admission and the sight of the Heir of North looking down at the floor with inflamed cheeks, while my Uncle just snorted quietly, his eyes turning back to me.
“Anything else you want to share with the room Jon, before you go and take a well-deserved rest?”
“I would like to request a thing from you, dear father,” I said, a grin coming over my face, and out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Catelyn’s worried frown. Ugh, stupid insecure woman, I didn’t want the seat of Winterfell, why couldn’t she get that?! Putting her out of my mind for now, I looked the waiting Warden of the North in his eyes and, unsheathed my new sword halfway, “I get to execute the Ironborn, in the way I want.”
Comments
Dapo Alabi
Excellent chapter
VØ1Ð ÐŘÄĞØÑ
👍
PP092
Sorry 😅😅😅
VØ1Ð ÐŘÄĞØÑ
Uncle!? Lyanna/Visenya messed up!
